


From battle we have loved

by TheonlyDan



Category: Big Little Lies (TV)
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, F/F, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:15:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21939568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheonlyDan/pseuds/TheonlyDan
Summary: Madeline Martha Mackenzie will find love. Or she already has but she's too blind to see it.Set after season 2.
Relationships: Bonnie Carlson & Jane Chapman & Renata Klein & Madeline Martha Mackenzie & Celeste Wright, Jane Chapman & Madeline Martha MacKenzie, Renata Klein & Madeline Martha MacKenzie, Renata Klein/Madeline Martha Mackenzie
Comments: 12
Kudos: 35





	1. Prologue: But have we ever really lived in better times?

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fan fiction and I do not own these characters.  
> This will focus on Maddie and her friendships/relationships with the main characters. You're guaranteed to see a happy/fluffy ending for Maddie and Renata!

The five women gave their confession, and that was it—the end of their freedom, gone with one dark night in the trade of love and the greatest friendship.

They could look at it however they wanted, that all of this was built on a lie instead of something profound, for a moment of panic and weakness instead of altruism, for something bigger than their trivial selves.

But it was only human and they did it for sisterhood. If they were to go back and re-live the scene (which of course, the Monterey 5 rather not), they would make the same choice.

Celeste would still take all the blame, Jane would be too shaken to look at the corpse of her nightmare, Bonnie would say she pushed _him_ as she rubbed her neck with guilt and horror, Madeline would say with conviction that he slipped and fell, and Renata would be the first to go with Madeline’s idea because she wanted to protect them all.

From what? Rumors? The man who was already dead? Their families? Themselves?

Then they would still agree to lie.

And they would do it again for sure, for Bonnie, to go to the police station and fess up.

Having a female judge had its pros and cons; the trials were ugly but the judge was fair, as the 5 women admitted begrudgingly (“It’s a bitch thing.” Renata muttered loudly under her breath that made Jane chuckle, and Madeline couldn’t help but smirk. “Yup. Only us bitches know that.”) They made a splash on local news (spicing up a whole level of gossips in town) and even gained a small corner on _USA Today_ (“Who the fuck reads newspapers now?” Seeing the news and the pictures of his ex-wife, his soon-to-be ex-wife, and their friends, Nathan mumbled and crumpled the papers together vehemently, throwing it into a nearby trash bin with force. He perfectly ignored the protest of a shocked waiter. “You know what? I might have to hate you less after you did that.” “Fuck off, Ed.”)

“It” formed something greater and turned some hate into love, some lies into truths. Jail time was inevitable for Bonnie (and she was relieved when she actually had to go to prison), but thanks to Renata’s excellent pick of lawyers (“I told you, he’s the one capable of keeping OJ from going in. I mean both the first _and_ the _second_ time.” “Thank you, Renata. I’m glad the bankruptcy thing hadn’t softened you all the way.” “Aww, _sweetie_ , you know I still think your name is ridiculous right? I mean, what kind of name is _MMM_?” “Stop bickering like an old couple.” “Well, you don’t want to be a part of this Celeste.”), Bonnie was released with a nanny slash probation officer after a shockingly short five months.

As for the rest of the women, the four were to be fined and undergo three months of community services, wearing and sweating in hideous oversized t-shirts for the first time in their lives. (“I don’t know if I wanted to be not free inside or outside. What a tough decision to make.” “Shh.” Jane shot an affectionate glance at Bonnie’s side, “Sarcasm doesn’t look good on you, darling.” “Yeah, nor does a stranger in one’s _private household_.” Renata glared and practically seethed at the officer sitting innocently in the corner, eating his leftover bagel while the Monterey 5 enjoyed their bountiful meal of reunion in Bonnie’s garden. Madeline bumped Renata’s elbow and she mouthed a “what” back, bristled, but as Madeline frowns and took a concerning look at Bonnie, visibly gaunt and spent and so _tired_ after only half of a year, Renate instantly deflated, took her cue and resumed the lively conversation, feeding everybody with home-cooked goods, the town’s gossip, and her uprising career. Madeline relaxed and squeezed Renata’s hand under the dinner table as a gesture of appreciation. Someone may or may not have had noticed, that their interactions contained an air of joy and cautiousness throughout their gathering. _Since when did they…?_ Madeline stopped herself from overthinking (this has been quite useful these days—to just _stop thinking_ ) and leaned a little closer to Renata’s taller blazered shoulder with a drink in her hand and her mind blissfully void of thoughts. Renata blinked and quickly took a sip of her own red.

It was an enigma—they were all enigmas to Thomas, who had been working as a probation officer for fifteen years, and was quite proud or even fond of his job. He was witnessing how a group of people he’d naturally developed to despise (come on, topics on hair and makeup and the best windows to install? I have to babysit a man who’d molested a five-year-old, for fuck’s sake) could have such a high level of non-verbal, intelligent communication and understanding.

 _But at the end of the day, they all knew too much and so little about each other, didn’t they?_ Madeline mused as she swallows a mouthful of sugar, gluten and fat, barely keeping an ecstatic moan in check. Fuck, life’s good when being with people she liked and loved.

And someone may or may not have had noticed the blush that had crept all the way onto the tip of Renata’s ears.


	2. Creatures of habits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angsty bits with Celeste ahead!

“So, are you two still doing the Ross-and-Rachel thing?”

“Yeah, it’s been such a long time since we actually stay civil and agree on something, I’m gonna weep.”

Madeline sips the Chamomile tea in her hand and doesn’t feel any peace that the drink is supposed to bring her. Ed chose her and she chose to make it work, but that love has prevented her to become who she wants to be. _See, I don’t need a fucking psychiatrist to figure it out._

Celeste sighs as she reads her friend’s expression, not knowing if she should put her selfish remarks. Maddie has given up on Ed and their marriage for a month or so now. Celeste knows she must have tried _so hard_ to save all of it because it has been written all over Madeline’s face—her fatigue has spoken for herself. At some point in the past few months, Celeste was sure she wasn’t the only one who wanted Madeline to let go and treat herself better.

Whereas the couple is far from naïve, Madeline needs to think of the most precious thing in her life—her family. Renewing vows in a somewhat romantic but impractical way seemed to be a good idea at that time, but after the trial and the whole scandalous revelation, their marriage dissolves like a sandcastle after a torrential downpour. Nothing can save their marriage; even if they wanted to, some wounds never heal. Ed and she had reached an agreement—they will stay under the same roof until Chloe is old enough, then they will get a divorce. For now, Ed is having a hell of a time seeing Tori for his twisted reasons (Yet, Madeline has no heart to place an ounce of blame on her husband.) “I honestly don’t know how things are going get worse now.”

Her tone is bored and even monotonous in the bystander’s ears. Celeste knows better; she hums and sips her tea as she tastes the bitterness from her best friend, the beverage lukewarm in her hands and flavorless in her mouth.

Madeline takes in her friend’s serene profile. The bruises on Celeste’s wrist have faded away, but what about the other ones on her thin, alabaster body? How about the ones that were deeper?

“Stop looking at me like I’m going to die, Maddie.”

“Well, start talking.” Celeste raises her eyebrows with mouths slightly ajar, preparing for a comeback. “You have something you want to tell me, don’t you?”

She closes her mouth and looks away, eyes gleaming. She’s having that faraway look again, and Madeline can’t help but feel nervous.

Max and Josh are playing on the balcony. Peacefully, for now.

“Honey, you can tell me anything.”

“I’m pregnant.”

Madeline spits out the tea and earns herself a death-stare. Celeste gets up to get some kitchen towel with Madeline trailing behind like a lost, anxious puppy.

“Celeste! What the fuck?”

“I’m about to explain. Stop being so dramatic!”

“I’m worried! Jesus…I’m sorry!” After a pause, Madeline dares to add, “Do you know who the father is?”

Celeste elegantly dabs the towel on her ruined shirt as Madeline quietly explodes from the inside. Before she can snap, Celeste whispers.

“I don’t know. But I am going to get rid of…I’ll go to the clinic to, to sort it out. So its father is not important.”

“You mean you’re going to get an abortion?”

“Yes.” Celeste deadpans with a stoic expression but Madeline sees through her: the way she stands with her shoulders bend back, the rigid angle of her frail neck, and how her hands are trembling oh-so-slightly. Celeste is still clinging onto her nightmares…but don’t they all hang onto what will keep them alive? “Next Tuesday. I’ve already made an appointment.” Madeline is dumbfounded. The first emotion that she’s being struck with is sadness, and then grief, frustration, concern, and anger which Madeline doesn’t know very well about its source. She seems to be living on fumes lately. “I’ve been going to therapists…I really did, and I’ve attending those sessions—”

“Celeste,” Madeline speaks in a hushed, soft tone as she gently stops the hand from moving more and more erratic of cleaning the dampened fabric. As the warmer blues bore into the steely blues, the understanding focuses on the distraught, the kind gazes into the desperate, Celeste breaks into tears. They don’t need to speak at all as the taller blond crumbles into the weakest form of a being, seeking refuge as the shorter blonde envelopes her into a tight hug. “I never judge. I’ve known you for years now, and I love you for who you are. Don’t you ever forget that.”

Celeste only has the strength to nod in the most powerful shield, built by the most protective woman whom she trusts implicitly.

“Thank you, Maddie. For your support, your friendship, everything you’ve done…” Celeste whispers hoarsely into Madeline’s ear as she breathes in her friend’s familiar floral scent. “I honestly don’t know what I’d become of without you.”

“Probably still being hot and gorgeous and the most envied housewife in Monterey?” Madeline manages but she can’t stop the tear from escaping. She wishes she is crying only for Celeste instead of all the fucked-up reasons combined. But Madeline’s mind, even now, is too jumbled to think coherently like she used to.

Celeste chuckles weakly and gradually let go of her.

“Seriously, we all need a decent break from this shitstorm of troubles. Take all the time in the world to heal if you want.”

Madeline stares into her eyes and Celeste freezes. Madeline has gazed upon her very soul and Celeste hasn’t felt this naked for a while as she dances around men who don’t really care. Madeline has suddenly aged significantly as if she’s been secretly taking on all the stress and blocking all of the bullets for her loved ones.

“But if anyone dared to lay a finger on you, or hurt you in any way, I swear I’ll break that fucker’s neck.”

After the sincerest declaration, the air seems to stay still because the promise is too heavy for the September air to carry. Celeste swallows and has the wildest wish to shrink now, being crushed and lifted by words that someone truly means, feeling how strong the presence of Madeline is. She is for sure the ultimate combination of formidability, loyalty, acceptance, and love.

“Well, I mean it as in a figurative way, of course.” Madeline shifts uncomfortably after the quietness seems to backfire and penetrate herself. “Sorry about your blouse.”

“It’s OK.” Celeste has totally forgotten about her clothes. “You can just imagine how many ruined shirts when the boys were growing up. Vegemite is the worst.”

“That’s because they taste like shit.”

“Will you show some respect? I’m half Australian! It tastes heavenly and is rich in glutamates—”

“I’m actually happy for your unborn child because it wouldn’t have the chance to eat that disgusting thing.”

***

“Take care, Maddie.”

Celeste’s gentle voice makes a sharp contrast with her eyes. Madeline averts her gaze and says her goodbye with the same cheeriness albeit nonchalantly, slips into her SUV, and goes on autopilot.

The inevitable only comes crashing back after a few minutes of dim silence. Who’s she kidding? Of course Celeste has chosen _not_ to tear down her mask because she knows Madeline doesn’t want that now. She respects and adores Madeline so much that she doesn’t have the heart to deliver the cruel blow, starting with one simple question: _how about you, Maddie?_

They both know Madeline is not fucking fine because she has given too much; she _has_ indeed been snapped into two…but now, no one can to put her back together. Celeste is willing to, but she’s not capable of it. Madeline has the responsibility to get better again by herself, but the strength in her is gone.

As Madeline Martha Mackenzie drives past the dark lonely bridge that shows her the way home (what is home? _Where_ is home?), she starts to sob as tiredness and dread take over, _again_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've lived after the final episode of Big Little Lies.


	3. You tear and build with steady pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day at the beach (and a particular song in the car).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Maddie/Renata ahead!

“It’s just beautiful, isn’t it?”

Madeline jolts out of her reverie as Jane speaks, staring at the same direction as she does; it’s a surreal picture because it’s too perfect—Chloe, Ziggy, Amabella, Josh and Max, Celeste and Renata together, playing and laughing and squealing with delight on the warm sunlit beach. Bonnie and Skye are at the aquarium with Nathan; according to her ex-husband, he wants to “spend some quality time with his girls” and “reconnect”. Madeline grimaces a little. She can’t even hate Nathan now; it’s pathetic for him to still want to win Bonnie back. Perhaps it’s one of the (few) good sides of him.

“Yeah, it is.” Madeline answers absentmindedly. The pleasant breeze grazes by her skin, messing up their hair and make them all a little untamed, freer, almost younger. The ocean joins the choir in the September background. “Feels too good to be true.”

“Are you ok, Maddie?”

Madeline is prepared but never ready for this kind of question; Jane has been a healing soul, being the one who makes the most progress among the five. She’s still young, years of opportunities and romances are ahead of her.

“I’ll be.”

She’d hate to ruin this precious Sunday afternoon, where the majority of the women have cleared their bombarded schedule to meet up right here, right now. Madeline tries to put the melancholic and self-destructing thoughts aside, but with a creature as bright and warm as Jane beside, she finds herself at the edge of unraveling.

“You should just ask her out, you know. I always think it’s easier with girls.”

Madeline’s breath catches in her throat; she turns around and stares incredulously at Jane despite she knows exactly what she’s talking about.

More specifically, a certain older blond, who has recently gotten a successful divorce, _glowing_ with maternal pride because of gaining full custody of her daughter; the woman who is six feet tall in Madeline’s view, and is undeniably beautiful and sexy as hell.

“Are you coming out to me?”

“I always thought the world doesn’t need so many labels. But I’ve dated men and women…so there it is.”

Jane’s smile is so carefree that Madeline has to blink a few more times to fully compute the information, deciding on which question to ask from a million others. She takes down her sunglasses to look into Jane’s eyes, momentarily awed by the unfathomable understanding and kindness in the olive greens.

Then she settles on one of the questions she absolutely regrets later.

“Why is it easier with girls?”

Jane grins like a Cheshire cat, and that’s the moment when Madeline realizes, against her better judgment, that she has just confirmed Jane’s guess.

“You know, we’re easier to communicate because we, I don’t know, share a spiritual connection since we’re all women?”

Madeline snorts and puts her sunglasses back on.

“P-lease. Women are the worst to talk to. Will Jane-the-love-expert care to enlighten little old me here?”

“At least it’s something you can do. Something you’re unquestionably capable of.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Madeline doesn’t mean to get so harsh and shrill, but Jane seems strangely unperturbed. Celeste stops and shoots a worried glance at their direction but Madeline fake-smiles and waves her concern off.

“Connecting! Maddie, you’re one of the most sympathetic and kindest person I’ve ever known, I’m just curious and worried…it’s not that you shoving us out lately, I know you care very much but, I kind of feel that you’re not acting like yourself.”

“Well, maybe you don’t know me at all.”

Madeline freezes after that, and so does Jane. She regrets it instantly and is momentarily startled for saying something so cruel.

“I’m sorry…you’re right. I don’t mean—”

“Yes, you do.” Jane shrugs and Madeline winces as if she’s being punched in the stomach. “But I know you well enough. You need to pull yourself together, and it’s something only you can do.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” She replies sharply, raising her voice. “I want to get better but I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do! It’s like…like…” Jane turns around to face Madeline, expression wistful with sadness but not surprised at the outburst. “Like I’ve lived in a fake bubble all my life, and now I’m being offered something like _redemption_ but all I feel is this…this dreadful emptiness.”

Jane wordlessly reaches for her hands and holds them firmly.

“You will heal, Madeline, I promise you that.” Madeline feels that Jane somehow sees her behind the sunglasses that offer a pitiful amount of protection. “Face it, own it and get over it.”

“That’s easier said than done.”

Madeline murmurs and wishes she hasn’t because of the next thing Jane is bringing up.

“I went through a similar phase after I was raped.” Madeline blinks; before she has the chance to blame herself for reminding Jane that particular painful past, Jane continues as she lets go of Madeline’s hand, pulling her hair into a bun to stop the wild strands from getting in her face. “Even now I still have nightmares, but it’s so much better than before, back when I was desperate to run away from things I don’t know. I’m not saying it’s all rainbows and unicorns after you heal.” Jane makes an exasperated grimace that puts a weak smile on Madeline’s worried face, knowing the young brunet is referring to the shit they went through in the past few months. “But guess what? I’m happy. I’ve reached a peaceful state of mind, and I’m happy with that. Does that make any sense?”

“Yeah.” Madeline slowly exhales, her heart no longer pounding angrily loud in her chest. “I guess it does.”

After that, they spend a few minutes in silence. Madeline can’t help but marvel at Jane’s heartfelt honesty, bravery, and compassion. Janes's heart is big enough for all of this, and she’s still a good person after everything she’s been through.

_I’m not a good person fundamentally. I’m far from it._

“And as for dating advice, I don’t think I should be giving any more suggestions, given that I’d bumped into rapists before.”

Madeline laughs hollowly and rests her head on Jane’s shoulder. The children are playing tag now, with the two blonds purposely slowing their pace, smiling wildly until their cheeks are splitting for happiness.

“Thanks, Janey.”

She sighs and tries to form a systematic statement of gratitude, then she gives up, realizing it’ll be unnecessary because Jane understands.

Jane is right. Maybe she’s been acting like another person since the day they met, and Jane is too smart for that. She must have had recognized it at the beginning.

“I kinda like my new nickname.” Jane grins as she puts a hand on Madeline’s shoulder gently, securing her smaller frame in her wings before the enormous sea in front of them has the chance to swallow them again. “Again, you should ask Rennie out.”

“Are we having nicknames for everybody now? And wait a fucking minute!” Madeline frantically detangles herself from the half-embrace, and Jane doesn’t bother to hide her smug. “Who the fuck says that I’m interested in _Renata Klein_!”

“Did someone say my name?”

A familiar female voice rings from behind, and Jane needs to pinch herself from cackling at the blush climbing so high on Madeline’s cheeks and her obvious panic.

“No! We were just talking about—”

Madeline turns around to meet Renata’s eyes and looks away hurriedly, leaving the standing blond slightly confused. The shorter woman has been treating her differently these days, and maybe she likes this newly-developed dynamic more than their previous ones.

Madeline searches Jane’s eyes anxiously.

_And damn Renata’s perfect minimal makeup and her flowy floral dress that reveals more of her fucking alabaster thighs._

“Men!” “Women.”

The fact that Jane and her speak simultaneously hasn’t helped the situation.

“That’s what she said.”

Jane mutters, ignoring the death glare aiming at her. She rubs Ziggy’s head affectionately and brushes some sand off of his clothes. Celeste and the rest of the kids—Chloe, Max and Josh—follow and join them on the beach towel. Renata observes Jane and Madeline suspiciously as she sits down, beckoning Amabella forward for some water.

“Are you bisexual like my mom?”

Ziggy asks innocently. Jane’s eyes turn as wide as saucers while Madeline moans and puts her face in her palm. The rest of the grownups stop their motions in mid-air. _Jesus fucking Christ._

Then her daughter chirps in, proving Madeline too naïve to think it won’t get more awkward.

“I wouldn’t be surprised, woman. You once said it’s ok to be gay.”

“What? When did I say that?” Chloe sits down and gives her a very heavy and impatient frown. “Ok, that comes out wrong, I don’t think that it’s ‘OK’.” Madeline uses her hand for a dramatic quoting gesture in the air, trying to be as theatrical as possible as a distraction for saving grace. Several pairs of eyes are now focusing on her, some startled, some amused. “…’OK’ sounds like you’re doing something entirely different and wrong but then you’re being graciously forgiven. That’s not how we should think, whether it’s about sexuality and gender, right? I mean, _come on_ , it’s already the year of twenty-twenty.”

“Hear, hear.”

Celeste speaks animatedly with laughter and admiration in her tone. Madeline relaxes, shoots her friend a grateful smile, and receives a knowing grin in return.

_What the fuck? Does the world now know the thing that’s been going on between her and Renata?_

_And what “thing”, precisely?_

The children have lost their interest in the conversation and move on with their interactions. Jane busies with the task of cleaning Ziggy (still looking too smug for her own good), Celeste feeds her boys with organic granola bars and apple juice, and Renata—

Is still staring at Madeline with an unreadable expression while she redoes Amabella’s braid. _Uh oh._

Madeline ignores the unrelenting gaze that makes her hot and cold at the same time, then clears her throat. _Fuck. Why does everything about Renata Klein have to be so intense and exhilarating?_

“Guys! let’s take a selfie, shall we?”

***

After an abundant amount of pictures taken, being requested by one particularly incessant mom, the kids are back for more fun. Celeste and Jane relax side by side on the beach towel, exchanging what Madeline hopes to _not_ be about their previous discussion about sexuality. Christ.

Renata stands close, checking the photos on her iPhone. They are in a safe distance from the others, and that somehow makes Madeline’s palms sweat a little. She is vividly aware that if she turned her head right now, her lips will accidentally brush upon Renata’s soft cheek and she can’t help but get a little carried away—

“Oooh! This one is so cute. Put it up in our group-chat.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

The newfound proximity and the rosy smell of Renata are giving Madeline a funny feeling, weakening the intentioned aggressive tone. Instead, her voice comes out throaty and even… _flirtatious_ , and it’s definitely sending a message to the older blond.

Renata backs off a little to Madeline’s disappointment and puts her hands on her hips.

“What were you and Jane talking about back there?”

“It’s none of your business.”

Madeline raises her chin defiantly, and “it” is back—the charged, nerve-racking, thrilling energy that exists since the day they’ve become arch-nemesis. Nowadays, it’s one of the few things that makes Madeline _alive_.

Renata’s eyes narrow with a gleam of the same predatory look, all riled up. Madeline can’t help but feel something different, that Renata seems strangely satisfied or expectant of something.

Oh boy.

“You didn’t exactly answer the question.”

“What?”

“About whether you’re bisexual.”

Renata’s voice is low, close to whispering, but her tone is not carrying the usual urgency. Instead, she now reminds Madeline of a purring cat that has just finished licking the butter.

So Madeline dares to shoot back like she always did.

“Well then…” Madeline closes their distance to less than one foot apart. “…are _you_?”

Renata’s blinks, the reaction bringing an almost pleased smirk upon Madeline’s face. But she wants _more_.

Madeline’s aware the flush upon her cheeks and how glassy Renata’s eyes have become as she looks down at her; both without heels, their height difference doesn’t improve.

She always has a thing for taller women. Or older women. Or blonds—not the color of her own hair, but the shade that’s dirtier and darker.

Wait. Or does she always have a thing for _Renata fucking Klein_?

“Guys! We’re leaving!”

Someone shouts from behind that tumbles them out of the heated moment. Renata coughs and looks away as Madeline staggers back, clutching her phone tightly in her hands, and speed-walks back to her daughter, desperate to leave the tension-filled space.

“Mom. You’ve been acting weird.” One song belonging to Chloe’s “Oldie” playlist—maybe one of the Beatles—is played loudly as Madeline drives them home. Turning the music down and sighing a little (thinking that loud music can prevent any kind of conversation from happening is just childish), she sets her jaw and prepares for the worst. “You know you’re free to date others, right? We all talked about dad and his…his _girlfriend_.”  
 _Oh, so it’s about this._ Madeline relaxes, just slightly. She desperately wants to find joy and consolation in the transparent disapproval of Chloe’s tone—obviously, even a third-grader can see how wrong it has become. But Madeline can’t; she’s guilty. She’s responsible for putting her daughters in this fucked-up situation.

“Yeah. I know, honey. It’s just that I feel I kinda need to focus on you and Abigail. And my friends.”

“You mean the _friend_ -friend?”

Madeline bristles.

“What are you saying, young lady?”

“Nothing.” Chloe cuts to a different song. _It’s my house_ starts to play in the background.

Madeline’s face blushes with horror and bashfulness; she looks into the rearview mirror and finds Chloe mouthing the words with an I’m-all-right-Jack attitude. Of course her daughter knows about this.

_The group chat was on fire since the afternoon because someone (ok, maybe it was Madeline) started an argument about career-moms and stay-at-home moms (she had to defend herself since school has started this week). While Renata was undoubtedly in the prior category and Celeste’s lawyer days were now pulling her closer to it, Madeline doesn’t feel any support from Bonnie or Jane. It was three against two and she had to win._

_Celeste and Jane were peacekeepers in the conversation. Bonnie’s side was swinging and she rarely spoke. Like the old days, Renata and Madeline were the ones bearing ammunition and guns._

_They progressed into disagreeing something about looking good while doing their tasks; Madeline blatantly attacked her with the whole bankruptcy catastrophe (bonus points to her because she also hinted that Renata was unhinged to settle herself with a pig-husband who was fucking the nanny). Renata replied with things that made Madeline furious—how dare she mention her cheating on Ed and that their current situation is putting her children in peril? How dare Renata say she was busy destroying her family while staying at home?_

_And then it got worse. Renata shared a video documenting a photo shoot a year ago when she was going to be in some cover of a piece called Women in Power. Madeline aggressively (and was just a tad curious) clicked open the video, deciding to attack Renata later that bankrupting had prevented her to be on that cover anyway._

_She forgot how loud she had turned up the volume, so when the video played, the heads all shot up beside the dinner table. Madeline muttered “shit” and quickly turned off her phone._

_“Mom, you’re the one saying no cellphones when we’re eating.”_

_“What’s so urgent?”_

_Ed quipped in, and Madeline gave him an odd look. Although they were surprisingly civil now, with conversations strictly sticking to their daughters, the weather, and the melodramatic complaints from Madeline about other parents to make everything look fine._

_“Yeah, it looks like you are not here—”_

_“Ok, ok. It’s about Renata—” Ed raised his brows. Abigail and Chloe rolled their eyes. “—and her incessant stupid messages to prove that she’s somehow better than stay-at-home moms like me!”_

_“So what was that deafening sound about?”_

_“I won’t bore you with the details, but it’s a video about some stupid photo shoot.”_

_“Who was the model?”_

_Madeline stared at Ed vehemently with a “well, duh” expression._

_“Who do you think it is? Of course it’s that stupid woman—”_

_“You already said stupid three times.” Madeline stopped mid-sentence while Abigail looked at her nonchalantly, “So the thing clearly means a lot to you.”_

_“Well, yeah! It’s goddamn irritating!”_

_Abigail and Chloe shared a haughty look._

_“By all means, play it, if that’s so important to you.”_

_Madeline frowned. Was she missing the math here?_

_Ed continued to look at her with a funny expression as if he was betting for a certain outcome. Madeline shrugged and complied (and she had to admit her curiosity was getting the best of her)._

_It started with Renata singing along with an upbeat song, posing in her glory and lip-syncing to the female vocalist while the photographer threw compliments and directions at her. “…in power, right? They own banks. They’re all like, demure. Bullshit.”_

_“Ok, ok. That’s enough.” Madeline quickly turned off the phone, a little unsettled for no reason. Three pairs of eyes focused on her, amused and expectant. She distinctively felt that something was forming up in the air. “Should’ve known not to play it. God, will she NOT curse in every other sentence?”_

_But flashes of red stayed in the back of her mind as they continued their domestic-ish dinner. While she was absentmindedly praising Chloe about her school project, she suddenly realized the lingering red was probably the flashy dress Renata wore in the video._

_Later that night, Madeline clicked open the video in her bed._

_What Renata said in the background or what music was on didn’t matter; the only things Madeline saw were how ravishing Renata looked in that extravagant scarlet dress, with the golden belt that made her figure look so invincible and womanly. To make matters worse, Madeline couldn’t help but notice the black bra she wore while she power-posed a series of posture. When her annoying husband showed up for a conversation (as if he cared), the makeup team seized their chances to touch Renata up. She leaned forward for the liquid lipstick—that was when Madeline found her gaze gravitating towards Renata’s lacy bra. She blamed for how low the collar of the dress was, and how high it opened on the side of Renata’s creamy thigh, exposing miles and miles of legs (the stockings didn’t help)._

_But after she watched the one-minute video for the third time (and maybe for the fourth time), she ran out of excuses._

_She was undeniably attracted to the Medusa of Monterey._

“Chloe, please switch to a different song.”

“I thought you like it.”

Madeline gives Chloe a death-glare while her grip on the wheel tightens.

“Why?”

“Or why would you save that video of the photoshoot? It isn’t because of Rena—”

“Have you been _snooping_ around with my phone?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a detailed chapter about Renata and Madeline! Don't you worry (wink


	4. Pink moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confessions and then basically, Bonnie babysits Madeline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not encourage the usage of any kind of drug.

If Madeline was honest to herself, she will find that this thing between Renata and she has been going on for as long as she can remember. People change, relationships evolve (i.e. look at her marriage with Ed now), but what they have always contained a fiery tone based on how similar they are—headstrong, uncompromising, stubborn as hell and protective as fuck.

Before Madeline can prevent it from happening, Renata has gotten under her skin yet again, and has become one of the most important things in her life, and this is _not_ just some midlife crisis excuse people often placate themselves with.

Another person whom she thinks counted as an adversary, is Bonnie.

Madeline needs to admit, she never knows Bonnie well; they’ve definitely become closer—after the lie, the secret meetings to secure the lie, the trials before Bonnie officially went to prison, and the times they spent together after she got out in one piece.

But they were never by themselves, and the conversations were always fruitless or futile to some degree.

So Madeline proposes a hike with her after the weekend Nathan took them to the aquarium. She needs to burn some extra calories off anyway.

“…Jail time benefits me with a lot of soul-searching. I’ve made pacts with myself and I’m going to honor them.”

This is what Madeline is afraid of, the intimacy their conversation is going to get, but she knows it’s inevitable and she’s braced herself for it—this is who Bonnie is, all bohemian and wise and spiritual.

And less distanced to Madeline’s amazement.

“What are the ‘pacts’?”

Bonnie shoots a side-glance at her but doesn’t answer the question directly. Madeline instantly feels being excluded again.

Their sneakers make therapeutic scuttling sounds with the pebbles and fallen leaves on the hiking track. Madeline clears her head and waits for Bonnie to speak up.

“I shut people out because I…I hate _me and_ I wasn’t ready. As you know, I basically entered a relationship just to numb my pain. And it heals to some extent, because I got Skye…” Bonnie trails off and smiles. Her complexion has improved, but months of emotional and physical torment has aged her cruelly, adding some notable lines on her face. “…but they never really disappear, the scars.” Madeline bites the inside of her cheek because this sounds painfully familiar. “But I’m ready as ever now.”

“What are you going to do next?”

“Divorcing Nathan, and probably move back home to stay with dad for a while.”

“You’re _leaving_? Bonnie—”

“Wait a sec, Maddie, hear me out.” Madeline shuts her mouth and berates herself. It’s selfish of her to demand answers, let alone placing judgments. It was her fault that Bonnie went to prison. “We had a conversation that day. It was lengthy, long and painful, but we’ve come to some agreements.”

“Have you told Skye yet?”

“No, but we’re going to, whether Nathan likes it or not.”

Bonnie grouses a little at the end, as if she was reminded of the weariness about the conversation. Madeline doesn’t find any solace or pleasure in the fact that her ex-husband is going to get some sort of “punishment” because he’s inapt of the same things in their first failed-marriage. She only gets this…sadness, that another person is suffering in similar ways she did.

“He really didn’t change.” Madeline speaks softly and knitted her brows, a bitter smile painting her face. “People don’t change.”

“Why should we?” Madeline raises her brows. “What will we achieve if we change who we are? Justify for yourself, face yourself and be honest. That’s the way to live in this world.”

“Where do all this mystical philosophy come from?”

“I know people like you, Madeline. You convince yourself something for others, and you’ve become almost too good at it. It becomes so easy to believe, even deep down you know they’re wrong, all the _lies_. But you stick to them to survive.” Her head stops working as the words pour out of Bonnie's mouth, every letter digging into her flesh and bones. “Stop living for others and live for yourself.”

Madeline stays in shocked silence and wills her brain to function, to process the fact that Bonnie has penetrated her walls and retreated, choosing not to take or break anything for her advantage of all the years they’ve known each other.

How does she _not_ see all of this?

Since millions of years ago their forced rivalry has evolved beyond friendship; they’re family, and perhaps always have been yet Madeline refused to see that. She refused to understand Bonnie as a person. She treated her like an outsider, and Bonnie is right—Madeline needed to “believe” she was better than Bonnie, or else she’d break.

“I suppose…” Madeline clears her throat as the silence gets heavier on her side. “…That things based on lies are bound to break, that’s what all of this is about, huh?”

Bonnie smiles warmly, and Madeline felt strangely relieved even though she is too afraid to ask if she’ll ever forgive her.

“Honesty isn’t everything, but sometimes it is. I let people see who they wanted to see, as you did, but those images were never us.”

“Yeah, you’re right. People do lie to themselves all the time, right?”

“And that’s exactly why you should stop blaming yourself for that.” Madeline bites her lips hard enough to draw blood; she doesn’t know if she’s angry at the sharp truthfulness, or frustrated by the compassion she doesn’t deserve. “Even now, what I’m doing is exactly ‘justifying you’ for you. Because I have the right to do so. We’re family, Maddie, no matter what you think.”

“You _are_ family, Bonnie.” Madeline stops dead in the track, the bottom of her lip trembling and her vision is blurred by tears. “And god, I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done—”

“Shhh…” Bonnie walks in front of her and puts her hands on her shoulder, as if she’s trying to steady Madeline before she runs away. “It’s ok. What did I say about the blaming part, hmm?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore…I’m so fucked-up…” Madeline snivels and curls herself further into Bonnie’s loving embrace, wishing to disappear because this is more than being embarrassed and devastated—this is soul-crushing and wound-digging. Why isn’t she warned that medicine is not only hard to swallow, but you have to carve your heart out first, or to let somebody tear it out for you? “Will you forgive me, Bonnie?”

“Maddie…” She sighs patiently, knowing the blond isn’t going to magically take in all the words at once. Madeline has her healing path ahead. “I never blame you for what you did, and even if I had, I’ve let it go eons ago.”

“Why’re you being so nice to me?”

Madeline lets go of Bonnie and tries to get a hold of herself. She isn’t the kind of woman who can cry beautifully; she’s the messy type. The ones that get angry red patchy cheeks, with a runny nose and instant puffy eyes.

“I don’t want to shut you out anymore. Remember the deal I’ve made with myself in jail?” Still sniffing, Madeline nods dumbly as she wipes the tears away with clumsy fingers. “You are one of the people I care deeply about, so I won’t shut you out. At least I am going to try.”

“But you said we shouldn’t change.”

“Ah, you’re listening, Maddie. I miss times like this, talking with intelligent people.”

Madeline snorts and gives her a teary grin. They resume walking, with the sun still bright and warm in the late afternoon. “I’m not changing, essentially. It’s the choices we make that define who we are.”

“Now that just sounds like something you quote from a song.”

“Busted.”

They share some laughs, and their dialog gradually moves into a tranquil lull, this time relaxing for the both of them.

“You know, you should start a diary or something, if you hate therapists as much as I do.”

The silence is broken by the dark-haired woman. With Bonnie, Madeline feels less like a talker but more like a laid-back observer.

“I know I’m going to write once a day at first, and then once a week, and then a month. You get the math.”

“You should still get started on something. It’s important to communicate with your inner voices.” Madeline hums and takes a sip from her canteen. “Write a letter addressed to yourself or something.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I’m totally serious. Maybe you can develop your writing skills and become a writer, who writes about sexuality and gender in twenty-twenty.”

Madeline freezes. _No they did not._

She glances at Bonnie and finds her laughing quietly to herself. Stunned by how beautiful and authentic Bonnie looks after they’ve laid their guards down, perhaps being frank and open with each other for the first time, Madeline huffs instead of making a scene out of this.

But she’s still going to kill Jane and the rest of them.

“I’d rather smoke again or get stoned. What else did they tell you?”

“That you’re bi?” Madeline moans and kicks a pebble so hard, her toes hurt. “Come on. I’m pansexual. You’re not alone.”

“Why is everyone coming out to me?”

“Maybe it’s the hint for you to do the same to a certain someone?”

Madeline doesn’t know whether to cry, or laugh, or shout, that they’re being so observant and she’s not. She’s only figured out she’s attracted to Renata recently, and she dares not to delve further.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. I really don’t. She’s having her hands full with the job and Ama, plus she’s just gotten a divorce, you know? Fuck…why am I even telling you this…”

“Because you’re both morons!” Defeated and baffled, Madeline only raises her brows. “It’s one thing to watch you two tear each other apart, it’s really amusing. It’s painful to watch the constant eye-sexing _and_ the pining.”

“So are you suggesting that I just go full speed ahead, not consider her feelings then get what I want?”

“No! I’m saying something like, spending some quality time together for coffee. Wine. A nice inner. A run along the beach. You’re both out again in the market, correct?”

“Yes! But—”

“And you know it’s always not a good time.” That mutes Madeline effectively. “You of all people should know that the timing is always bad.”

“What does that even mean?”

Bonnie gives her a stern look and Madeline drops her argument because she knows exactly what she means. Somebody needs to make a move sooner than later before this evolves into a bad YA drama.

And they’re not young anymore. Time is short.

“Speaking about getting stoned, do you want to get back to my car?”

Madeline’s jaw drops at the revelation. And the invitation.

“Please don’t tell me you drive your kid every morning to school with illegal cannabis in the vehicle.”

***

Five hours later, they are (almost) themselves again after the consummation of thoughtfully-rolled, homemade joints of ecstasy.

“I swear to you, Jesus is a black woman and she has spoken to me.”

“Write that in your diary, Maddie.”

Bonnie has recovered because she hasn’t smoked as much as Madeline did—she needs them more than she does. She has already called Ed and Nathan to take care of the kids, and tells them she and Maddie are having a private dinner.

“I love you so fucking much, Bonnie.” Her voice is uncontrollably loud with a lazy draw. “But don’t worry, I don’t want to fuck you or anything near that.”

“Good to know—”

“Not that you’re not attractive, it’s just that you aren’t my type.”

“What is your type?”

Madeline giggles breathlessly and looks at Bonnie with eyes gleaming like a child. Bonnies starts to regret her decision to let Madeline smoke a whole pack of her secret stash, considering she probably hasn’t done anything near this since the eighties.

“I’m going to tell you a secret, can you promise me not to tell anyone?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Give me your pinky.”

“Madeline! I’m driving!”

“Pinky power or I won’t tell!”

What kind of monster has she freed? Nevertheless, Bonnie carefully extends her right hand and receives a very firm pinky swear.

“I’m in love with Renata Klein. Do you think I should tell her?”

“No! No, Maddie, I don’t think you should do that. What if she’s not in love with you?”

Of course, she is. Bonnie rolls her eyes to herself. Madeline Martha Mackenzie is literally the only one person in the world who can stop Renata from terminating some poor soul, and live to tell the tale. But this needs to be handled with care, like a drunken confession of love will _always_ lead to bad endings despite all of the promoted romance in movies.

Madeline frowns, and her doe-eyes are instantly filled with tears.

“You think she doesn’t love me?”

“No! I just think you should calm down, meet her in person, and tell her how you feel. Maybe she’s just seeing you as a friend, and you might scare her if you tell her now.”

Bonnie is sure of all the words she’s spoken, only the part of “meet her in person” is being registered.

So before she has the chance to pull over and stop Madeline from doing anything regretful, she’s already pulled out her phone.

_–Hi Renata_

_–Wanna go for a run tmr morning (inserts three winking emojis)_

–Btw, you look good yesterday with that—

The damage is not so big. Before Madeline has the chance to finish that text, Bonnie has already stopped the car at the side of the road, and pulls the phone out of her hands (with struggle; who knows how much strength Madeline has after she’s high?).

But then, maybe she shouldn’t get so optimistic because now Madeline is whining and blubbering and trying to get her phone back, with Bonnie realizing why she’s also getting notifications on her phone.

Madeline has just sent the messages to their group text.


	5. What you are and all I'm not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Renata pays Madeline a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is so fucking hard to write but I enjoy every second of it.

Madeline wakes up groggily with a bizarre sensation. She tries to remember how she gets in bed, but there’s zero recollection.

Still in her yoga pants and an old t-shirt, she sluggishly recalls this was the outfit she wore yesterday with Bonnie in the woods where they hiked. There was a lot of crying, and they hugged. There was something about blame, honesty, lies and change.

Sitting up and stretching with leisure—she hasn’t been privileged to good sleep lately—her mind is blissfully clear of negativity, only the refreshed sensations, and the vague memories of the talk. And boy does she smell.

Then it all comes crashing down to her, the bitterness the sadness and confession. And marijuana.

And the texts.

Madeline gasps and looks for her phone frantically, panic exploding before her eyelids. She finds the innocent device on her nightstand, its screen shining with incoming messages. It’s almost ten-thirty, and there are approximately sixty messages unread and twenty missed calls.

Her whole body freezes when she reads one of the latest messages that was sent three minutes ago. It was a private message. From Renata Klein.

_—Coming to check on you. Don’t move._

Madeline’s head now works a hundred miles per hour while she goes through all the texts at once. Ok, so basically she got too high and Bonnie had driven her home without waking up the kids and Ed (miraculously) to put her in bed. She’s done her best to minimalize the damage by the texts Madeline sent, telling everyone the _truth_ why she was not fully conscious at the time (Madeline groans at this). Bonnie also told Ed to drive the kids to school because _Maddie is not feeling well after their dinner, probably for the seafood_.

But the more she thinks about the texts, the more suspicious she gets—the four women have all called individually to check on her. In their group chat, there was a discussion about visiting her, but strangely, everyone has something coming up all except Renata, being the only one available.

Talking about a busy career-mom, Renata should be at board meetings where nothing can be done unless she’s present, or working with a bunch of idiots who lack multitasking skills and real vision, or tackling emails one by one during her fifteen-minutes lunchbreak.

She deals with the dubious group of friends first.

_—Guys, I’m FINE now. Stop worrying. I love you._

_—Bonnie, please forgive and forget some of the things I said._

_—No, guys, please just forget the fact that I got stoned._

Then she calls Renata. The line is through after the first ring.

“Madeline! Are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah. Thank—”

“You are going to tell me _everything_ that happened last night! Jesus! We’re worried to death!”

“Ok, calm down, Renata. Nobody is dying. Where are you now?”

Madeline can practically hear the impatience and massive eye roll over the phone, but still, she’s grateful for Renata dropping by. And she’s struggling very hard to not read too much in this gesture.

F, r, i, e, n, d, s spell friends, Madeline. You’re friends. Friends take care of each other.

“Another fifteen to your place.”

“Listen, I need to go shower because now I smell like the weirdest combination of hobos and nightclub, ok? If you arrived just come on in, there’ll be coffee—no, you know what? Just make yourselves at home because I’m determined to get comfortable after the whole event.”

There’s a pause, which is quite odd. Silence is never one of Renata’s best weapon of choice.

“Did you just wake up? You’re insufferable. What were you thinking of yesterday?”

Her tone lacks the usual bite, gentler than usual, and Madeline’s heart warms at the undisguised affection and concern in Renata’s words.

“All right, _mom._ See you later.”

She hangs up on Renata and stares at the calming sea of blues, all the way to the same dazzling horizon.

***

Although she showers and dries her hair in her life speed, she still hears noises from the kitchen and the tell-tale clacking of designer heels. Madeline’s heart misses a few beats when she realizes the house is empty except for her and Renata.

She turns on her blow-drier and starts to detangle her blond waves of trouble.

Ed is working at some anonymous coffee shop, or he might be banging Tori for all she cares. Chloe is at school. Abigail…is working at some forsaken warehouse in the middle of nowhere for the start-up company. Madeline has come to terms with Abby and herself; it’s a long frustrating progress, but their conversations have paid off. Her daughter is maturing, and so is she (still, she gets to know her work address and schedule because there are still gangsters and dangers in Monterey, where people pound each other with nice till death). It isn’t the best mother-daughter relationship in the world, but they’ve both tried their best and nothing is perfect.

She is not going to cling to _perfection_ so tightly then sacrifice what’s important in her life again. She is going to deal with her not-going-to-college trauma slash regret, and she’s not going to punish her daughter for it (though she offers from time to time if Abigail is not happy with the job, school is always an option).

Combing her hair and getting out of her bathrobe, Madeline sighs and reaches for her body lotion, slathering a generous amount of them on her thighs, legs, and arms. She ponders for a second if she should apply them on her front and back, and that’s when the most cliché thing happened.

“—Maddie what’s taken you so long—” The air freezes. They freeze. Madeline only has so much time to get half of herself into the robe before Renata barges in without knocking. “—oh.”

“Haven’t you heard of knocking before? Jesus…”

“I’m sorry! I was worried!”

For the first time in her life, she witnesses how endearing it is when Renata averts her gaze and _blushes_ , standing by her bedroom’s door awkwardly. Renata always claims the floor she stands if she wishes to be there, but right now, Madeline feels intrigued and satisfied that she’s got some kind of upper-hand.

“Don’t just stand there. Shoo! I’ve given a house-tour before so I trust you won’t get lost.” She’s finally decent, and she turns around steadily to face the intruder. Then she finds why Renata doesn’t leave.

She’s watching Madeline this whole time and she doesn’t even bother trying to hide her intention. Madeline frowns and feels her mouth going dry, face growing unbearably hot. “Well?”

Renata doesn’t need to say a thing because her look has said enough. As the taller blonde’s gaze bore into the shorter, Madeline almost can’t hide the gasp when she sees the evident want in Renata’s eyes, where the usual blue is now darkened by blazing desire. She licks her lips; the courage she had mere seconds ago is gone.

“I throw something together for you to eat.”

Renata shifts and puts one hand on her hips, another on the door frame, pretending to be interested in the woodwork. Madeline’s head is instantly swarmed with images of Renata being sprawled on her kitchen island, mewling while she eats her up. She’s saying this on purpose while touching the doorframe, the gesture like caressing but has too many innuendos. Renata turns her head to meet Madeline’s eyes once more, satisfied that she’s reduced the bold woman into a pool of silent lust, and walks away.

Madeline moans. At least she now knows the feeling is mutual, right?

_Right?_

“God, this is delicious.”

“Babe, it’s only chicken sandwich with one of your many organic cans of sauce. God, how I miss being rich.”

Madeline wolfs down the food; she’s technically missed two meals, that’s why she’s famished. Renata, on the other hand, has decided to help herself with a glass of wine.

Drinking at noon? Must have been a rough day already.

“How’s work?”

Madeline is aware of the rudeness as she speaks with her mouth full. Renata gives her a look of mild disdain, but her expression is soft while she grabs a tissue.

“You got mustard and ketchup _all_ _over_ your face.” She mutters and leans in, cleaning Madeline’s face thoroughly with the tissue. Despite she’s chewing, it doesn’t prevent her from blushing. In the nearness, she can smell the wine in Renata’s breath, the distinctive scent of Chanel No. 5, and feel the warmth radiating from Renata’s cheek. “The idiots are still idiots, and I can’t tell you how mad I was a few days ago when one of the lowly staff thinks he’s somehow entitled to say I’m no longer suitable for being the CEO, I mean, let’s be honest.” She throws her hands up in the air and rolls her eyes in her usual dramatic flair, sitting back to her seat. “The money I had to lose is more than the salary he’s ever earned in this life and the next. It’s them, the men’s fucking egos that prevent us from getting things done.”

“So you fired that employee?”

“Yes, I fired a _janitor_ , for fuck sake. And to put out some sort of statement that I will _not_ be looked down upon, I signed a contract with a different cleaning company. They use better diffusers in bathrooms anyway.”

Madeline can only continue to sip the cold coffee, and stays in eternal awe of Renata’s uncompromising, obstinate character.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing.”

Madeline swallows the tasteless black liquid while Renata takes a sip of her red, posture stiff, with the silence settling more and more uncomfortable around them. They were never really alone, not like this; there were always people in the background to cushion the impact, or to be fire-extinguishers in case they start yet another argument. Fierce like bulldogs, when they interact it’s a dance on the wires, fully-winded with no luxury of freedom to relax.

“Relaxation” almost doesn’t exist in Renata’s dictionary to the view of strangers, but Madeline knows her too well to say that it’s bullshit. She’s smart enough to never let her guard down in public, because unlike Madeline, she wears her scars too close to her façade. With blazers and heels as armor, scorn and fury constantly carved over her face, Madeline knows Renata is the kind of woman who runs her world on fumes, who only embraces calmness when she’s truly alone.

“So are you going to tell me what happened last night or what?”

With a heavy sigh, Madeline jumps off the stool. Renata’s stare trails her to the sink as she starts to clean the plate and rinse the coffee mug. Bare-feet, no makeup with mom-jeans and a worn-out hoodie, Madeline feels self-conscious and ill-dressed in Renata’s powerful presence. In her pantsuit glory, Renata is wearing a white blazer and a sheer black blouse stylishly tugged into her black tailored slacks. Madeline clears her head from the image of the lacy bra underneath the thin material.

It’s been reminding her of _that_ goddamn photoshoot—the fucking spark that ignites her insatiable yearn for Renata Klein.

“It’s a rebellious act. I was with Bonnie, the young nature-loving hippie woman, remember? It’s almost foreseeable that I will do drugs with her someday.”

“You mean, you were _with_ -with her?”

Madeline gives her a mirthless laugh, trying not to overthink the possibly of Renata being jealous, although the idea of Renata being possessive of her is too delicious.

“ _Please._ You think I’d realize my ex-husband fantasy?”

“Ew! How did you know?”

“It’s written all over his face. Bonnie also told me the other day. It’s men’s dream.”

Madeline throws a casual glance at Renata’s direction, and finds she’s pouring herself another glass of red, expression less guarded but indecipherable.

“It’s actually not that unpleasant.”

Madeline thinks she’s probably misheard because surely Renata doesn’t mean _that_. But she has spoken in a rich, low tone, like the day on the beach when they were talking about her sexuality.

Madeline puts the plate and cup back to where they belong, turns around, and finds Renata staring at her, distracted but almost pleased, with her hand absentmindedly tracing the rim of the glass.

Madeline gulps, her gaze drifting towards Renata’s long, perfectly-manicured fingers with blood-red nail polish. Renata always keeps her nails short, and the continual absence of the wedding ring is notable than ever in Madeline’s head. She steadily meets Renata’s ocean eyes, then she’s at loss of her words.

“Huh?”

“Never mind.” Uncharacteristically, Renata simply huffs as dismissal, and downs her drink (somehow manages to remain elegant in the process). Her shoulders are tensed again with the annoyed scowl back on her face. Madeline notices Renata has clenched her empty hand into a tight fist, knuckles white with angry veins contrasting with the alabaster skin. “I should get going.”

“No!” They pause and stare at each other, both startled by Madeline’s outburst. “I mean, you just had a couple, right? So you shouldn’t drive.” She feels her cheeks and neck heating with embarrassment, but Renata has a funny look on her face, too. The alcohol must have gone straight to her system because why else would Renata appear flustered? “Let me get you some water.”

“I can handle my own liquor.” Madeline rolls her eyes. It’s not even her wine, but she’s not going to say that because that’s exactly what will set Renata off. “So about last night, you were saying something about a run?”

 _Oh god, here we go._ Madeline fills the glass and walks back, setting down the water and slips into the stool right beside Renata. She was one corner-seat away from Renata when she was busy devouring the sandwich, but now she feels like she needs this proximity to…spur something on. Without a beat of hesitation, Renata turns around to face her, expression cheeky and sharp.

It’s no surprise Renata will see this as a sort of dare; in Madeline’s newfound clarity, she knows why she’s taking the initiative to challenge their closeness. While honesty is the basis of any relationship, boundaries are, too.

And sometimes, to achieve certain things, lines are bound to be crossed.

“Yeah, I wasn’t thinking clearly, because I was still _ooh-hoo_.” She makes a theatrical “coo-coo-crazy” gesture with her hands, receiving a raised brow along the way. “I mean, there’s probably a part of my subconscious that just…can’t get over you.”

“Get over _me_?”

Renata narrows her eyes, shakes her head with a lack of comprehension and glares. But Madeline perceives she’s more bemused than enraged. “What? You still have some grudges against me?”

“Of course I don’t.” Madeline snaps and Renata adjusts herself on the stool, their knees bumping against one another. “If I did, I was hating you with respect and gratitude.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Her voice is at a dangerous edge, sharp and demanding for an immediate explanation. Madeline knows Renata has a clue of what she’s talking about; they’ve never had this kind of conversation before and now they’re both afraid.

“You know the feeling you get when you know something too well then you start to hate them?” Renata’s eyes widen comically, and before she has the chance to retaliate, Madeline babbles on. “I mean, you’re quite incredible and seem to have it all; you have all the things I don’t have and probably vice versa, but in the end it infuriated me so much and I couldn’t help but resent you more. And your… _strong_ personality didn’t help.”

“So basically you hated me for being a bitch and because you, what, think highly of me at the same time?”

“I won’t say _admire_ , but close, yeah.” Madeline’s eyes bore into Renata’s. “It’s complicated. That’s why I said there’s something going on with my subconscious, that I’m somehow trying to solve…” Renata has been uncharacteristically wordless, the forming storm in her eyes quietly dissolving into a steady blaze. “… _You_. Us. Me. Whatever. Uh! This is so messed up.”

Madeline reaches for Renata’s empty wine glass, and pours herself one, finding something to do just to momentarily avoid Renata’s penetrating gaze. _Please god just say something._

“What’s changed?”

Madeline frowns and meets the pair of eyes that will shoot daggers if someone disagreed, burns with rage if someone bared any contempt, looms with dark warning if someone harmed Renata’s family. But now, the same pair of eyes show nothing but confusion and the purest curiosity. With child-like distress, void of any sarcasm, Renata is unbelievably soft, like the rose petal dangling on its thorny vein.

Madeline blinks at the transformation which makes her stomach flip, and takes a large gulp of the wine.

“What’s made you stop hating me?”

“That gratitude. They are always there, those appreciations. They are the _good_ voices that tell me how lucky I am to have met such an extraordinary human being who’s so much like me.” Madeline shies away Renata’s amused stare and looks at the sea instead. Unfortunately, it reminds her of Renata’s eyes. “But then the evil voices, which includes self-hate and all the negativities appeared and they yelled: Renata is the enemy. Hate her. Then before I knew it I was stuck in the cycle of you-understand-so-you-hate. If it weren’t for the whole shit-storm to happen, I don’t know how I can ever stop hating you. Or hating myself, as a matter of fact.”

A silent interlude creeps into their space like a mutual agreement. Both women stare at the calming ocean and savor the peaceful common ground—they have somehow done it. For the first time in Madeline’s life, she’s managed a civil, intimate conversation with Renata about her honest, personal thoughts, without either of them walking away with curses in their mouths, or tense postures indicating the talk has been yet again, stressful or a waste of time.

“I swear you’re the most annoying woman I’ve ever met.” Renata says very quietly after minutes of a ceasefire. Madeline gawks at her. “And the most wonderful one.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Klein.”

“I know you because I’ve seen the ugliest parts. I have them, too. You are the greatest enemy, mother, and friend.” She turns around. Although her tone is deadly serious, she’s looking at Madeline with unmasked understanding and genuine warmth.

“You’ve become so important in my life now. I am regretting I haven’t told you anything like this sooner, that you mean a lot to me, and I treasure _you_.”

Caught off guard, Madeline blushes profusely with her mouth slightly agape. It isn’t just something when you get compliments and wholehearted confessions from Renata.

Renata’s face is now invaluably tender, affectionate, like she’s been possessed by a different persona, and Madeline feels her eyes swelling up with tears at the things she has just found, for the first in their times together, something reserved exclusively for her from Renata Klein.

“Jesus Christ I am NOT going to cry! Ahh!” Madeline uses the sleeves of her hoodie and covers her entire face hurriedly, but her teary voice and red-rimmed eyes are already seen by Renata. “I’m most definitely still on pot.”

“Let it all out, girl.” Renata chuckles, the sound so soothing and sweet and loving that it only makes Madeline cry harder. She leans forward and wraps her arms around Madeline’s body, strokes her back, and presses a feather-like kiss on the crown of her forehead. The gesture feels so domestic at the moment, like it’s bound to happen after weeks and months and _years_ of tension. “Let it all out.”

“What are…who… _why_ are you so kind to me, Renata? This is not you! Are you even real?”

“Trust me, I was more shocked when you said what an incredible woman I am first.”

“Shut up!” Madeline smacks Renata’s lap, earning another shower of giggles. “I know you’re never going to let me get away with that. And god!” She disentangles herself from the warm embrace. Renata’s there, ready for her with the sincerest smile, the grin so wide and bare that makes her eyes crinkle. Madeline feels small and naked all over again.

“Now I just won’t stop crying and it’s all your fault!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2020 guys!


	6. Falling apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They always crash, but now, something always follows after each of their collision.

Madeline snaps open her eyes and becomes fully awake in the dark.

Her ears still ring with all kinds of sounds—the sirens of ambulances and police cars, the labored panicked breathings, the low deafening buzz of the interrogation room, the horrifying screams for help that never comes. Lying alone in the king-sized bed, she waits for her rapid heartbeat to slow back to normal, her jammies clings to her body uncomfortably for the cold sweat.

It’s hardly the first time for Madeline to wake up disoriented or paralyzed with fear in the middle of the night, or just before the break of dawn. She reaches blindly for the phone, squinting because her eyes have adjusted to the dark, and an inaudible sigh escapes from her. Madeline drags herself to the bathroom, forfeiting any chance to steal a couple of hours of sleep before the time she needs to get up.

No one ever really gets over their nightmares; they will always come back at you, testing the waters and let you decide if you wanted to drown.

She makes herself presentable with leisure, distracted by thoughts that take her back to yesterday, where she and Renata had _the talk_. A wild grin blooms on her face for no reason, and no reason needed—she doesn’t want to overthink. She just wants to relish in this happiness, a feeling she hasn’t experienced for so long she thought she’s forgotten about it.

Madeline decides to cook her family a large breakfast that’s all sugar and butter and cream and _wonderful_.

***

She watches her little girls walk into the unknown, both growing and reaching the primes of their years, their youth glowing on their beautiful, hopeful faces.

As Madeline drops Chloe off, she can’t help but linger in the driveway (ignoring angry protests of the traffic controller), just to fight for more time before the most precious things in her life drift further and further away.

“I get that. I totally do.” Celeste smiles nostalgically with Jane nodding alongside. “It’s what we all have to endure.”

“Every time I wake Ziggy up in the morning, I’m almost angry for him to grow up so fast. Where does my little boy go? He’s just here last night!”

Madeline sips her latte as she enjoys the company of her two best friends, that is, before Jane and Celeste share a stealthy look. Madeline instantly knows the calm before the storm is over.

Celeste raises her brows with a wry smile. Madeline groans.

“Nothing happened! We shared a productive talk, and that’s it!”

“Define _productive_.”

Jane wriggles her brows and Madeline kicks her under the table, abhorred and is absolutely _not_ blushing over the suggestion.

“She just paid you a visit, and left? I thought by the time she left there’d be some kind of craters in your house.”

“She made me a sandwich.” Madeline shrugs, and watches in satisfaction as their jaws drop. “Surprised I’m alive and well, huh?”

“Renata Klein, the woman-boss who’s always on top, made you a sandwich?” Jane deadpans as Celeste starts to laugh quietly to herself. “How very, _very_ un-her. Did you also hold hands and sing Kum Ba Yah?”

“What is it with you guys about me and Renata?”

“We know she’s been trying to get into your pants for a while.”

Madeline stares at Celeste for the crude remark, appalled.

“Well, I’ll have to admit she’s good at being subtle, but then you somehow pick it up, then it just…” Jane makes an exaggerated noise to mimic the sound of an explosion. “Love is in the air.”

“More like sex is in the air. The L-word is a pretty big deal.”

“You mean _lesbian_?”

Celeste finishes the argument that sets Jane off to a full-belly laugh.

“I won’t be surprised. That Gordon alone is enough to turn any woman gay.” Madeline says with mild disgust when mentioning the notorious-ex-husband. “I mean, using his wife’s money to buy sex? From a _nanny_? I bet he’d even done it with Amabella still in the house. Ugh. God, how did Renata even survive all this? I mean community services _plus_ divorce _plus_ bankruptcy. But she got half of the original debt, that’s a good thing, right? Gordon is definitely going to suffer more than she does. What’s his job again?” Madeline finds Jane and Celeste looking at her, very amused. “What?”

“You’re gushing over her.”

“I was not! I’m simply expressing concern for a very dear friend.”

“Speaking of the devil.”

Madeline turns around just in time to see Renata getting out of her Toyota RAV4. _(“It’s big and comfortable enough in the back, might as well settle.” Renata growls bitterly while Jane rubs her arm for consolation. Madeline jumps in. “I’m sure Ama will like it more after she finds out how her mom makes a playlist of her favorite songs to play in the car.” Renata gazed at her with a frustrated scowl, arches her brows, but didn’t say a thing then. Jane observed their interaction, musing over a theory that would make a lot of sense.)_  
Renata is in her working attire, including designer jeans, a black leather blazer and a simple white shirt with a few buttons open, supporting the sunglasses she carelessly tugs there. So Madeline won’t be too guilty to say she’s only noticing Renata’s plunging neckline because of the dangling sunglasses, appreciating the ass and never-ending legs because of the tight-fitting jeans.

“Hello, ladies.”

Her tone is overly excited. Her smile is too wide. She’s carrying too much tension on her shoulders. Her posture is stiff. All of this doesn’t go unnoticed in Madeline’s eyes.

They greet her as she lets her gaze sweep over her three friends, and when she meets Madeline’s eyes, her focus hardens with something shifting in her eyes.

“Hey, Renata. I thought you’d be at work.”

Madeline winces to herself. Trying too hard to be smooth, this is what she gets—an uncharacteristically monotonous answer.

“Are you my PA or do I need to be reminded of my own schedule?” Renata huffs and slams her handbag on their table. Madeline rolls her eyes with a small grin, and relaxes again. “How they’ve managed to screw _three_ things up already, just because I’m going to be five minutes late, continues to amaze me.”

“Wow, what a day to start off.” Celeste gives her hand a sympathetic squeeze. “You want some coffee?”

“No, no thanks.” Madeline takes in the nervous energy of the tall blond who’s still standing, and sips of her coffee. Renata is acting strange for not dropping a single f-bomb in the conversation, and there’s some sort of jumpiness in the way she stands. “I just want to hide away and see if my building would explode by the end of the day.”

  
“Probably by noon."

Madeline chimes, and she sends her a dirty look, but with the corner of Renata’s mouth threatening to curve into a smirk, Madeline knows they’re good.  
“So basically I’m inviting you all to our pool. Ama wants to practice the flutter kick she sees on TV, and I figured it’s going to be more fun if she had some friends around.”

“When?”

Jane asks, pulling out of her phone to check her calendar.

“Saturday afternoon? I need to go to work that morning for fuck sakes just because some pig sexually harassed one of the secretaries, he has to go on a fucking hearing. And he claimed the feeling is mutual. _Mutual my ass._ ”

Yup. There goes the cussing.

“Ziggy is good.”

“I’ll bring Chloe. Should I ask Bonnie to bring Skye?”

Renata stares at her for a beat too long, then she quickly answers.

“Sure. How about the boys, Celeste?”

“Josh has piano lessons, but Max is good.”  
She answers hesitantly, and it throws everyone into a moment of involuntary silence. They’ve all moved on from the choking incident; what had been brought to them after the whole episode, is still freshly ingrained in their memory, and will stay forever.

“Chloe is going to be _thrilled_ , and she’s going to force everyone to play underwater scavenger hunts and Sharks and Dolphins.”

Madeline announces, and the thick unspoken in the air quickly thaws into the quiet steams spiraling from their hot beverages. Renata shoots her a look, too quick for Madeline to decipher anything else, other than a glimpse of gratitude for throwing the lifeline.

“Ok. Nice to see you all. You’ve literally satisfied my happiness quota for the day.”

“Your welcome. You’ve overreached our cursory quota as well.”

Madeline adds and raises her chin at Renata challengingly. Renata purses her lips, reaches for her bag to go, and mutters something under her breath, loud enough so everybody can hear it.

_“Stilling not getting over me, I see?”_

Madeline turns as red as the shade of her lipstick whereas Renata proudly marches off into the sunshine, to her black shiny Toyota with her head held high.

Jane and Celeste watch Madeline’s reaction intently.

“You should get a room already. I’m not even kidding! The way you interact is just. Wow.”

“What else haven’t you told us about yesterday? You gave her a love-confession or something?”

Madeline buries her face in her palms.

***

The pool-party-playdate goes well. Too well to Madeline’s liking. She’s been dreading something when she drove Chloe here; when she set foot in Renata’s home, the warm hug and the brilliant smile didn’t lessen her anxiety.

Now no one is choking or biting one another. Yet. So why is she so uncomfortable?

“Go talk to Renata, Maddie.” She jumps. Bonnie quietly walks beside her and slips an arm around her waist. “Why are you being so jittery?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been having this…strange feeling in my gut that just won’t go away.” Madeline exhales. By saying this out loud, she feels less frazzled already.

Bonnie chuckles.

“It’s called butterflies, you dummy.”

Madeline knits her brows together and throws an involuntary glance at Renata, who’s in her flip-flop-glory with an uncharacteristically bright smile. Something in her stomach twists again. Renata is wearing minimal makeup today, with a blue sleeveless top and a pair of white-washed, cropped-off jeans. The weather is too good today; with the sunshine, Renata looks unimaginably soft and carefree, her hair shimmering under the golden streams of lights.

“You’ve nearly spoken a word since you got here! We all noticed, and judged by the amount of concerning looks thrown at your direction, Renata’s is going to pull you aside and ask you what’s wrong sooner or later.”

“She did? I mean, you all noticed?”

Madeline bites her lip and looks at the ground. Bonnie can tell she has something deeper to confide than the mere admission of secret affection.

“Of course. Now go talk to her. We’ll look out for the kids.”

Madeline grabs a bottle of water on the kitchen counter, gives Bonnie’s arm a thankful squeeze, and walks out into the mid-October sun. Bonnie shares a look with the rest of the woman, and she rejoins them by the French window.

“I hope she’s all right. Maddie has been a little bit off.”

“Something to do with Ed?”

“I’m guessing so.”

“Hey.”

Madeline carefully approaches Renata by the pool. After she gives some enthusiastic praise to Skye for how good she is at doing back-flips in the water, she stands up to meet Madeline’s gaze.

“Hey.”

Her movement bears some cautiousness as well, and Madeline feels the guilt eating her heart seeing the love in Renata’s eyes, the sharp edges of her features are gone just because she’s with children.

_It’s about the children. It always has._

“Got you some water.” Madeline hands the bottle over with Renata slowly taking it, her gaze unrelenting as if she knows what’s on Madeline’s mind. “Thought you might be thirsty after supervising our kids.”

“Thanks.” Renata doesn’t remove the cap right away; she just continues to look at Madeline, getting visibly more worried. “And you're welcome. Being a helicopter parent has its advantages.”

“More like a fighter aircraft.”

Renata dismisses the weak offense with a grunt and drinks the water. Instead of admiring the pale elongation of Renata’s smooth neck, Madeline finds herself looking at Chloe.

“I need to get out of the sun.”

Not waiting for a response, Renata grabs her by the arm, forceful but not harsh, and whirls her away. Before Madeline knows it, she’s sitting down by Renata on the loveseat a little far from the pool, where there’s a lovely shade shadowing the two-seat couch. The spot offers more privacy than the sling chairs by the water, so Madeline has a vague idea of Renata’s intention.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why haven’t you changed your last name after the divorce?”

Renata blinks, taken aback by the question coming out of the blue. Before Madeline knows why she’s chosen to ask something that flashed by her mind days ago, she’s bewitched by the transformation of Renata—her face glooms over with weariness and irritation, a few lines harden around her eyes and mouth.

“I made Gordon take my surname.” Madeline can imagine Renata doing something like this, but she’s still curious about the reasons behind it, and how Renata is feeling about her decision at that time. Perhaps the couple was very different then.

The inquisitiveness must have been written all over her face because the displeasure on Renata’s face is now settling into a scowl. “Are you going to come up with a lecture on how controlling I was? Because that’s who I am, a manipulative bitch.”

“We all want to control. No need to be hostile about it.”

Madeline says flippantly, almost tired, her gaze unfocused as she stares ahead. Renata frowns.

“Madeline, look at me.” She slowly obeys, and watches the expression on Renata’s face go from great annoyance to unveiled concern. “What happened?”

“I talked with Ed and said I want a divorce. I’m not happy with our current arrangement. I feel terribly guilty and trapped and dependent. Nothing he said last night could change my mind, even if they always did in the past.” Madeline spews, and feels her world blurring into a bright, golden picture. “What is wrong with me?”

Renata, with her eyes widening with alarm and realization, quickly takes her hands and holds them firmly in her fingers.

“You’re going through a change.” Tears beginning to spill, Madeline holds onto every word that Renata has to say, transfixed and distraught. “It’s not easy for us to do that, you know. God, especially us.”

“What…what do you mean?”

“When I proposed the idea of divorce to Clemens, well, _Gordon._ He said _I thought you’d never ask._ Oh, I still remember that _look_ in his eyes.” Renata laughs bitterly. “It showed me everything I am and all I’m not. That look alone sent my world crumbling down all over again. Because that’s what happens. We mollify ourselves with lies, we stick around, and one day it’s bound to snap.”

“It’s different!” Madeline exclaims exasperatedly. “I cheated on Ed and _you_ were the one with an unfaithful husband!”

“You can be unfaithful in many different ways.” Renata says quietly, her expression solemn, almost regretful. “I had stopped being in love with him a long time ago. I’ve become what my family needs me to be, and that woman is not easy to love. On some level I already got over the fact he too had stopped caring for me. But of course, I will never forgive him for what I found out in the end. It was a fucking disgrace.”

“I am a fucking disgrace.”

“Don’t you say that.” Madeline snaps her eyes back to Renata, now looking at her intently with a different kind of anger. “We’ve made sacrifices, big and small. If you didn’t reconcile with yourself, they backfire in disastrous ways. You tried your best to make amends, correct? Then Ed gave up on you just because you made a decision to choose friendship over marriage, a thing which is supposed to stand crisis like that.”

“I chose _infidelity_ over marriage!”

“Then get the fuck over it! People fuck things up!” Renata hisses dangerously, gripping Madeline’s hands so tightly it hurts.

“What sort of answer are you seeking from me here? That I’ve somehow forgiven Gordon so _you_ can feel better about yourself? That there’s still a slim chance for you get back to your husband?”

Dumbstruck, Madeline forgets to cry as she sits immobile across the woman who had—who just—

She draws her hands back from Renata forcefully, ignoring the startled protests, and makes a beeline straight to the pool. Head spinning, Madeline vaguely recalls fabricating a perfect emergency for Chloe to go home with her at once, and the rest of the moms are too afraid or surprised to ask if Madeline is all right and no, she _is fucking not_.

“What happened, Renata?”

“She…”

Renata ponders carefully over the words, clenches her fist until her nails dig painfully into her palms. Then she tells them about Madeline’s decision, leaving out everything she’s not comfortable sharing.

***

She answers at the first ring.

“Hello?”

Madeline feels her throat closing up at Renata’s familiar voice.

“I am sorry.”

The line goes quiet all except for their breathing. It’s almost eight P.M. As soon as Madeline finishes the dinner with her family—an excruciatingly awkward affair—she calls Renata after hours and hours of thinking.

Renata sighs.

“Maddie, it’s ok.”

“You are right about me. God, you know me so fucking well. You’re right all along.” Madeline laughs dourly. “I _was_ asking for the impossible. I was asking for forgiveness that I won’t find unless I make peace with myself. I was reaching for my drug after only a minute of sobriety. It’s pitiful of me to not realize that.”

“Ok, enough. You’re doing that again, the whole self-blaming.” Renata takes a deep breath. “Bonnie told me…well technically, I kind of _asked_ her—”

“About the hiking talk? What did she say to you?”

Panic and trepidation make Madeline’s world fuzzy on the edges; she feels trapped in the house, and she desperately needs to escape again. The dark ocean view outside of the window does not help to calm her down, and she doubts it will if she’s to go to the terrace now.

“I was curious what had caused you to say, you know, _what you said_ the other day just because of some flower child-guru enlightened you—”

“Hey! Don’t say that about her!”

“Ok, ok! What are you doing? What’s with the noise?”

Madeline stomps out of the door with nothing but her phone, car keys and emotions.

“I’m going for a drive or I’ll pass out.”

“Now? Madeline—”

“I don’t fucking care! Stop telling me what to do!”

She ends the call with mindless fury and by the time she gets into the car, slams the door and revs up the engine, she already regrets her actions.

_What is she? Three?_

So when Renata calls her after she’s aimlessly driven for ten minutes, she picks up right away.

“Where are you?”

“I don’t know. Ten minutes from home?”

Renata pauses, and Madeline is prepared to be yelled at. The fear earlier was totally irrational…Bonnie, of all people, will never tell Renata something like she’s actually in love with her.

Is she in love? When has it started? Is she still in love with Ed?

“Since you’re already driving…” Renata clears her throat. Madeline tenses. This is not what she’s expected. “Are you ok? Do you…maybe want to come over? I put Amabella to bed because she’s so tired of all the swimming today. She even nods off a little when we’re having dinner.”

“Same here. Chloe voluntarily turned off the TV and went to bed, what a shocker. You should see the expression on Ed and Abby’s face.”

Madeline yammers, her head going into overdrive. Did Renata Klein just ask her to go over her house _now_? What the fuck does that mean?

However, she finds herself more than tempted by the idea of getting consolation from someone who understands her pain, knows who she is, and is bold enough to rip her open to tell her the cruel truth.

“I think I need a drink.”

“Oh. Ok.”

Renata sounds startled and relieved. Madeline chews the inside of her cheek, feeling her stomach does a little flip after she fully comprehends the situation.

“So, I guess, see you later?”

“Yeah.”

They don’t hang up right away, and before one of them does, Madeline finds herself talking again.

“So, why did Gordon take your last name? I mean, no offense, I’m just curious so if you’re not comfortable—”

“None taken. Jesus Madeline, what’s with the name fetish?”

“I don’t have a fetish!” Madeline shouts. “I just…want to get to know you and I don’t know it’s a crime!”

“Fine.” Renata sounds a bit ruffled up, gruffness appearing in her tone. “You know I basically build everything in my life by myself, so back in the days I claim things like crazy. I was obsessed with owning things. I became good at emotional-blackmailing and manipulation, which, I own the fact I still am. Anyways, this is not a tale of how I become the HBIC. I just thought that…” Renata trails off pensively.

“If you label things with your name on it, you’d feel safer?”

“Something like that.”

A heartbeat slips into their talk, and Madeline finds her hands have stopped gripping the steering wheel so tightly.

“Any other name-fixation you’d like to discuss?”

Renata drawls with feigned annoyance, and Madeline chortles.

“Actually, _I do_. Why do you always say my name like that?”

“Like what?”

“It’s Made-lyn, not _Made-line_.”

Another pause. Madeline swallows, because this time, she doesn’t know what kind of response she’s going to provoke.

“I really say that.”

“Uh-huh. Every single time!”

It’s quite interesting to see how Renata seems to be figuring this out for the first time.

“Which one do you prefer me saying?”

Madeline stops to think about it.

“Try it both. I’ll see which one I like.”

“Made-lyn. Made-line.” And after a pause. “Or I can just call you Maddie or babe.”

This is so not the time to blush over the casual nick-name Renata calls her all the time. “ _Babe_ ” sounds magical when it comes out or Renata’s mouth, the perfect combination of syllables and a lethargic intonation that usually follows suit. It’s the spell that calms Madeline, relaxes her, and makes her want to hide herself boneless into Renata’s taller figure.

“Just…say whatever you want.” Face still hot, Madeline says hurriedly after she comes back to herself. “I’m almost there. Get your liquor ready.”

“Ok, _babe_.”

Then she hangs up. Madeline curses loudly in her car because Renata knows exactly what she’s doing, and she did it on purpose. Then she curses silently again for how good Renata is when it comes to making her completely flustered and out of words.

It’s going to be a hell of a night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How can I NOT write about how Renata says Madeline's name???


	7. To be as one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night at Renata's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: childhood trauma revealed!

“So, what exactly did Bonnie tell you?”

They’re relining comfortably on the couch in Renata’s living room. Drinks in hands, Renata is in her black nightgown (which Madeline is guessing it’s thin-strapped) and a long woolen coat. Madeline needs to limit her attention for Renata—with her face scrubbed clean, Renata seems so relaxed and laid-back. Her hair is untamed and moussed. There’s a natural shade of pink coloring her high cheekbones because of the wine, blurring all of the sharp lines and stark features.

Throughout chit-chat, Madeline finds her gaze lingering longer and longer on Renata’s lips when they make contact with the glass.

“She told me how easy it is for all of us to run away from ourselves, and that you’re having quite the struggle.”

Madeline narrows her eyes suspiciously.

“Is that it?”

“Oh, she also told me you became a racist after you got high.” Madeline snorts. “And, about keeping a diary?”

“Yeah, to put down some manifestation like I’m a bisexual woman, and I’m having doubts about my sexuality in my forties, what should I do. No thanks.”

Renata grins and takes a sip of her drink, something playful dancing in her eyes.

It’s very unfair because Renata is being so disarmingly soft right now, Madeline thinks she’ll even go along with something ludicrous like Truth or Dare if Renata is to propose now.

“Finally. It’s about fucking time you come out to me. Why am I always the last to know things in our little tribe?”

“ _What_?”

“Well? Are you surprised because you yourself never told me you like women for some unknown reasons, or that I seem to always be secluded in our little community? Just so you know, both of the facts are pretty off-putting.”

Madeline hesitates for a while, trying not to fall head over heels for that teasing glint in those eyes, so blue and mesmerizing that she will drown.

She is drowning already.

“Remember that day we talk about how incredible you are and what a strong personality you have?” Cautiously, Madeline monitors Renata’s reaction because she’ll hate herself forever if she ruined this wonderful night. She finds the usually-imposing woman staring at her above the brim of her glass, listening intently with an unreadable expression. “You were someone to envy but not the type to emphasize easily. Now don’t get mad just yet! Hear me out! Then it changed. You’re still a little inaccessible and impossible, but I don’t think like that! Well, most of the time, so I think the four of us talk more with one another is because we think you have your hands full and you’re not exactly sending many signals indicating you need emotional support.”

Madeline finishes the final argument in one breath, squints her eyes and gets prepared for any kind of cursory thrown in her direction.

Then she peeps at Renata.

Renata is laughing quietly while her gaze trains on Madeline, her eyes crinkling into a half-moon shape, and Madeline swears she sees the stars in her eyes shining brighter than those in the night sky.

“Thank you for your honesty, I suppose.” Her tone is deep and rich, and the laughter continues to echo in her voice. Madeline is washed with joy and relief. At this perfect moment, she has the strongest urge to lean forward and kiss that mischievousness off Renata’s face. “It’s heartwarming for me to find friends after, you know, all that shit. But, I know I’m not very open, and I have been the outsider of this amazing group of people. Am I really that irascible in your eyes?” Madeline decides to take her chances and nods timidly. “Well, I just have to say sorry but not sorry. You try jiggling business and family for one day, and you’ll turn out just like me.”

“Oh knock it off. You know after I got divorced I’m going to be a career-mom as well, so you can stop the gloating.”

“You know you won’t look half as good as I do if you started.”

This instantly reminds Madeline about that _it’s-my-house_ video in their group chat, where Renata had successfully won the argument by being very _distracting_. And she’s winning now because Madeline’s face is reddening not for the alcohol.

“I said knock it off already!”

“You’ve made up your mind? About Ed?”

“Yeah. I’m ready to move on. Start a whole new chapter in my life. Wow, it feels so good when I say it out loud, even if it sounds like Real-housewives’ cliché.”

Madeline hurriedly takes a sip of her wine, thus preventing herself from staring at the twinkle in Renata’s eyes for too long. Renata’s being unusually quiet again.

The dynamic between them has been in flux, reshaping into an unknown territory. More often than not, they don’t have to say a word to know what’s on their companion’s mind. The occasional silences are simply mutual acknowledgments, that one of them is not in the mood of entertaining, or being entertained by dramatic statements or complaints just to fill in the blanks.

Unlike everything in Madeline’s household.

Back in the days with Ed working, she let a lot of things to slip into her consciousness over the years of marriage. She didn’t stop to think if they caused her any damage. It didn’t just hurt her—it corroded her into somebody she hated more. Like she thought Ed had a job to support the family, so he is to some degree more important than her. Even after she found a job as a real estate agent, didn’t help the inferiority complex. Like she thought every one of their conversations had led to a deeper connection, but the hollowness never failed to manifest itself after Ed fell asleep beside her, content and tired, ten minutes after making love to his wife (including the talking). Like she thought her responsibility was family, so she guarded it with her life, drawing lines in the sand and was always ready to pick sides to start a war. Like she thought she had nothing to offer but love and quick humor, so she tried desperately to keep her family interested and satisfied and comfortable. Like she thought she _should_ be the happiest woman in the world because she had a perfect family, a husband that loved her unconditionally, and two beautiful, intelligent kids.

But their love for her had become conditioned in her subconscious, and it was poisonous.

So, she sought love and attention at somewhere else, and boom! There went the affair.

“Earth to Maddie.” Renata’s voice jolts Madeline from her reveries. “Penny?”

“Just…I was just thinking about how I tightly I hold on to things.”

“That makes the two of us.” Renata says quietly, a little sorrowful, and gives her a smile full of kindness, the smile that only exists in novels where you want to sigh and cry because you’re being understood but not judged from higher ground. “We chase after the things we want, always reaching from one to the next. Then we found out we’re not running for our dreams, we’re running from our fears.”

“That makes a lot of sense.”

Madeline has a feeling that they’re about to enter a perilous zone of conversation, so she shifts in her seat to change into a crossed-legged position, finding herself sitting closer to Renata in the process. Renata notices her movement but does nothing to change her lazy side-saddle, except for tilting her head delicately aside to prevent strands of her wild hair from blocking her face, the motion exotic and flirtatious. They’re now sitting face to face, less than one foot apart. Renata has an unfathomable expression, expectant but patient. The harder Madeline tries to filter the options of her next move, the more transparent she feels under the older woman’s stare.

So, Madeline gives up reading the woman and asks instead.

“What are you running away from?”

Renata gives her a long look, and she finally answers in a measured speed.

“The harder I want to run away from my childhood, the more it has its control over me. Because for me, it’s the nightmare that propels me to go after my goals.”

Then Renata shares the most heartbreaking segment of her life.

“I grew up with an alcoholic father who struggled to find jobs, and sometimes when he was drunk, he molested his own daughters.”

“You…had a sister?”

“She killed herself.” Renata’s eyes are far away, her face serene. There are roughness and pain despite her flat tone. “The year she turned eighteen, she committed suicide. She never told anyone about our father. So when I was to testify at fifteen, I needed to recount the times that I knew of, and that one occasion when I was almost the victim of daddy-dearest.”

“Almost?”

Renata’s gaze flickers back to Madeline, then she looks away with a restless, haunted expression.

“I was going to bite his dick off.” Madeline sits immobile in her seat with emotions gripping her heart, throwing her whole being into the devastating memory Renata had to bear. “So he didn’t go through. I was angry at Mona for a long time that why didn’t she just _fight_ back, then maybe she wouldn’t have to kill herself for all of the shame she couldn’t bear. But years later I realized how selfishly ignorant I was. She was only trying to protect me, so she took _all_ of it. She endured all of the horrors, and I only blamed her. I am responsible for my sister’s death. Till this day, I can’t mourn her without being ashamed, or remembering that _monster_.”

“What happened to…to your…”

“My father?” Madeline swallows the lump in her throat and nods. “He went to prison. Then he got out. I hired a private investigator to keep track of him, although I know I shouldn’t have. It was pathetic at that time…to think that if I were to understand who he was and who he had become, something would right itself, that the universe would right itself with tragedies like this because it was too… _unfair_.” Renata wipes a silent tear away swiftly, her voice quiet and high-strung. “He died of cancer. All of the alcohol he consumed…”

Renata trails away and gives Madeline a halfhearted grimace before she raises her glass for a faux salute, then takes a generous sip.

Madeline is unable to comprehend the humor at the moment. She is still in a state of shock, and she can’t compartmentalize if she wanted to cry for what Renata needed to go through, or to show her sympathy by enveloping her into a crushing hug, or to cup her face in her palms and tell her _it’s all right, I am here, I’ll protect you._

All of the gestures seem redundant and Renata probably hates people for showing how sorry they feel for her—Madeline has her fair share of life, so she can relate to Renata at some level.

She proceeds with more questions.

“Did your relatives take you under their roof?”

“No, I head-dived into the foster system.” Madeline winces. “All of my relatives are not financially suitable enough to feed one more mouth.”

“That’s just like…escaping hell to enter another.”

Renata shrugs.

“Social workers came and went, and things were okay at first, but after some time, I realized that grownups just wanted to pretend things were fine. As if we’re not now.” Renata smiles a little sarcastically to herself and goes on.

“I went from home to home: I was too mouthy, too picky, too mean, too loud, too pretty that their husbands can’t keep their dicks in their pants. Well, the minute I went to college was a huge relief. After that, I was determined to be rich…rich with money, love, friendship, anything I can get my hands on. I became the name everyone knew, the nobody who becomes somebody by herself. A few boyfriends and girlfriends here and there, being played and learn how to play the game, and then a failed marriage, here I am.” Renata raises her brows and throws her empty hand in the air, the motion small and has too many meanings behind. “I am in a new phase of life, as you do.”

A period of deafening silence steals their space.

“You’re the second person I’ve ever told in my life. Well, _willingly_ told to be exact.”

Renata says wistfully, and unhurriedly drags her gaze back to the other blond. To her surprise, Madeline is still staring into the void with her brows knitted, a line of tears fresh upon her face. Her expression is beyond a thousand adjectives: crestfallen, outraged, nauseated, dazed, frustrated…and Renata is going to memorize this moment, where another human being is offering pure, immeasurable compassion after she’s revealed one of the ugliest parts of herself. “Maddie?”

She calls softly, and the smaller blond blinks, snaps her eyes back to meet hers, the action causing another tear to streak down her face.

“Oh! Uh, sorry.” Madeline gives a teary chuckle, and quickly wipes the moisture away as if she’s being angry rather than embarrassed. “Then, um, who’s the first one you shared your childhood with?”

“Gordon.’’

To Renata’s relief, Madeline merely nods, face somber.

“He must be a really sweet and wonderful guy to let you trust him then.”

It’s a civil answer, void of their usual sarcastic hostility towards Renata’s ex-husband. Renata relishes in the truthfulness and genuineness in Madeline’s words.

“Are you secretly complementing yourself as sweet and wonderful?”

She teases lightheartedly and watches in satisfaction as Madeline’s face flushes.

“Well you did say that I mean a lot to you.”

Shooting a feeble comeback, Madeline wants anything but to start a war. They’re still raw, on the edge of their emotions and at the most vulnerable place.

“That’s true.” Madeline raises her brow with a small grin. “It’s because if this—your kindness and true compassion. I’ve always admired this about you, that you’re fiercely well-intentioned.”

Renata says breezily and raises her glass next to her lips, whereas Madeline gapes at the sudden validation of her character.

“I’m not…kind. I’m an incurably selfish person.”

“People are selfish. _I_ am selfish. You’re intrinsically good, Madeline. Just because your life is falling apart, or you feel fucked-up, doesn’t mean you’re fucked-up.”

Renata says matter-of-factly, her tone smooth and hoarse and too gentle. Madeline shies away from Renata’s affectionate gaze, completely flustered, and takes a large gulp of her wine, hoping Renata can mistake the blush climbing to the tip of her ears as the physical reaction to alcohol.

She can’t _not_ feel the flutter in her stomach, just like she can’t help but grant her thoughts free rein.

“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”

She offers lamely and watches from the corner of her eye as Renata smirks.

“You know, nowadays, it’s really not easy for me to get something other than _evil bitch_ thrown in my direction.”

“Don’t get over-excited. I’m just too kind to you. We’ll work from _evil bitch_ to just _bitch_ , one step at a time.”

“And I also come out to you, haven’t I? Does that count as progress?”

Madeline stares dumbly at Renata.

“Oh god.” She starts to laugh uncontrollably. Renata smiles along with the infectious laughter, albeit confused. “The four of us…only Celeste is straight.”

“I don’t think so. She seems a little bi-curious to me. Or maybe she had some secret girlfriends in the past.”

“Really?” Madeline groans. “I’ve been out of the game for so long that my gay-dar is fucking broken.”

“So, Girlfriends in when? College? High school?”

“I didn’t go to college.” The lights in Madeline’s eyes dim out a few degrees. “But yeah, in the span of my twenties, there were a few.”

“Why didn’t you go to college?”

Of course Renata can see what’s on Madeline’s mind. She is hoping for someone to ask her this question, but at the same time _dreading_ for the wrong people to ask. In the group of women, only Celeste knows about it, and Bonnie may have already guessed she didn’t go to college because of all the drama Nathan had shared with her, which features a lot of arguments about whether Abby should go to college.

“I grew up in a house of discipline. It was beyond depressing to live in that home where I couldn’t fucking breathe, so when I was supposed to go to college, I rebelled.” Madeline shrugs. “I dropped out in secret, rent an apartment, and started waitressing, then I made some friends.” Madeline swallows and looks away. This will forever be her shadow. “I was weak-willed and irresponsible. Those _friends_ knew people who were drug dealers, and I became an addict. I was fired, and soon after, got kicked out of my apartment. My parents found me one step away from the streets when they came to visit. They took me home to put me into rehab. There went two years of…blankness in my life. All foggy and hazy.”

“That’s…quite a rebellion.”

“You think?” Madeline murmurs, closes her eyes and exhales. A warm hand tentatively covers her clenched fist, and Madeline softens her grip, opening her eyes. Renata has shifted closer to offer support, so she carries on with her story. “I got out and couldn’t find any decent job. No one would take in teenagers who had nothing but pitiful experiences of waitressing and using. I couldn’t turn to my parents because they only wanted me to go to college. I relapsed. I told myself it was the pressure even deep down I know it was inexcusable. Then Allison—the social worker assigned especially for me, because my parents loved to pull strings just to control me in some ways—appeared in my life. I—” Madeline laughs dryly. She was not proud of this, but she still gets the bitter-sweet sensation whenever she taps into this particular memory. “ _We_ , started a relationship. Then it was exposed. She got fired because it was illegal. Not to add the fact that she was a woman, and was twenty years older than me. Ally was forced to move away, because my parents threatened that they will sue her.”

“How so?”

Madeline sets her jaws. This anger for her parents had never gone away; despite it was her fault, Madeline still feels they went too far.

“Allison had never crossed her professional boundary, and she was a life-changing friend. She taught me important things, threw countless lifelines and was always there every step of the way for my recovery. She tried to convince my parents that I no longer required her service, because I’d been sobered for over two years and had settled down with a small cubical job. Numerous papers were involved to prove my stability, but my father insisted on keeping her around. I invited Ally over to my house from time to time. At first just as friends, and then, you know.” Madeline coughs and Renata raises her brows. “We didn’t know how it started or who started _it_ , uh, the seduction—” Madeline has the weirdest feeling that Renata tightens her squeeze on her hand, or is it her imagination? “—but I initiated the kiss. And then we went like that for several months.”

She pauses, and Renata draws her hand back. She mirrors Madeline’s sitting position and then uses her free hand to support her chin. She looks…intrigued.

“Went like what? Just occasional kissing?”

“Of course it was more than that.” Madeline snaps. “My parents fucking put hidden cams everywhere in my apartment. The only solace I found was how grossed out they must be to see their own daughter having sex with a woman.”

Renata grins wildly. Madeline thinks she should be offended by this reaction, but she finds herself smirking along at this newly-discovered satire. It is a relief; she has shared one of her shadiest histories, and Renata showed nothing but her big heart.

“Your parents sounded awful. I presume you’re not close?”

“I moved all the way here just to avoid them. But that was _so_ many years after the whole lesbian situation. Yes! You heard it right! They think just because I slept with Ally, I would be turned into a women-hunting beast. Bisexual people don’t exist in their dictionaries.”

“Women-hunting beast doesn’t sound so bad.”

Madeline rolls her eyes and feigns exasperation, ignoring how flirtatious it sounds when Renata is looking at her like _that_ with her head cocked and a coy smile, taking away all of Madeline’s worries and anxiety. Renata has the ability to relate, and her responses so far have made Madeline less self-conscious and more comfortable.

Sharing these kinds of stories is like reopening old wounds. When every emotion ripples the air around them, with every counter-reaction examined and magnified, it’s a miracle for them to still be _not awkward_.

“Anyways, the battle for absolute autonomy went on. I proved myself to be independent and stable for a good few years, then after some time I met Nathan. We moved here. The rest is history.” Madeline chewed the inside of her cheek, pensive. “I’d never admitted to anybody else, but I think…some part of me still wanted their approval so bad, that was why I chose a _guy_ as a ticket out of there…god. It all made sense now.”

“Maybe you should really start that diary.” Madeline huffs at Renata’s playful remark, although she can pick up the seriousness in her tone. “Don’t get me wrong, but it sounds like you’ve left some unfinished business back then.”

“What do you mean?”

Renata rakes her curly hair from her face lethargically. As Madeline watches the golden locks fall in waves, settling towards the other side of her shoulder, the shade of her hair seems to turn a little strawberry-blond in the change of lighting.

Her anger is gone as quickly as it came. Renata is not accusing or judging her, she’s simply being honest.

“It took me a long time to overcome intimacy issues. I never let anyone touch me until I was twenty-three. You know how I got over it?”

Madeline braces herself to hear some severe methods. Seeing the alarmed look in Madeline’s eyes, Renata puts a hand in the air as if she was afraid Madeline will suddenly charge at her.

“Now, it’s a little extreme I’ll admit. But it’s very useful for me. At those times, I close my eyes and let myself go over them. Every time, I told myself, ok, now you’re better because you’d faced it without throwing up, now you’re better because you didn’t cry, now you’re better because you aren’t even shaking, etc. Eventually, I knew I’ve gotten over it, because I can re-watch myself in those situations calmly. It works differently for everyone, and after struggling for a long time, it’s yet the best medicine for me.”

“Gosh, you’re so brave.” Madeline couldn’t care less if she looked starry-eyed now. She knows about this kind of technique to process trauma, but she’d never had the courage to follow through.

“You’re just…your very existence is just _astonishing_ , you know that? You underwent such horrible events, then you’ve strived and made so many accomplishments in a workplace full of male chauvinist pigs. Not to mention you always seem so confident, so sure of what you want, and then you go after it like a bulldog. In a metaphoric way; I don’t mean to say you’re anything like a dog.”

Madeline snaps her mouth shut and mentally kicks herself, realizing she’s really gushing over Renata. She nibbles her bottom lip and watches Renata’s reaction timidly.

At first, Renata remains as before, her willowy body relaxed, a soft expression settling on her face. After she registers all of Madeline’s appreciations, she shifts a little, and _shyly_ tugs a strand of the abandoned hair behind her ear with a widening smile. The smile is a little different now, colored with bashfulness and blush looking way too pretty and endearing on her face.

“Thank you, I suppose.” Renata meets her eyes, and Madeline’s heart skips a beat. Her mouth is suddenly dry. Renata’s eyes are dark and bottomless and so absorbing, Madeline is momentarily confused that she’s actually afloat all her life, now she’s finally touched the ground. “Though I’m not always sure of what I want.”

Madeline can’t ask _then what is it that you want now_ because she’s afraid she’ll sound too breathless, and her tone and everything else would betray her, that she wants nothing more than to cup that beautiful face like holding eggshells, and tug another strand of that wild lock behind her ear, and _kiss_ _her_.

“So.” She finds her mouth moving on its own accord. “You have any one of those _rebellions_? I imagine you as a very adventurous person.”

“I got a tongue piercing when I was twenty…four or so.” She answers airily but Madeline can’t help but think Renata sounds a little disappointed at something that could’ve happened. “It was not long after I illuminated myself with the wonders of sex.” Madeline chokes. “I was eager to please my boyfriend at the time, so before the wound closed properly I gave him the blowjobs of a lifetime, then my it got infected. It was a miracle that the doctor didn’t have to cut off my tongue.”

Flabbergasted, Madeline stared at Renata. Images of her having a pierced tongue and giving enthusiastic blow jobs flashed by. Madeline’s face turns impossibly red before she burst out laughing. The feeling of being aroused and cracked up at the same time is very confusing.

“You…Renata Klein… had piercing in your mouth just to give good oral sex?”

Renata smiles coyly and takes a sip of her wine, her brows arched in a teasing angle.

“With or without, still the best.” Madeline shakes her head incredulously. “How about you? Anybody body arts you’d put on when you were young?”

“Are you saying I’m old?” Renata playfully splays her hands in front of her like a truce. “I have.”

Renata blinks. That answer is probably not what she’s anticipated. After all, Madeline knows how she looks just like the typical American sweetheart.

“Piercings? No, you don’t seem like that kind of girl.”

Madeline raises her brows approvingly.

“You know me well, woman.” Madeline shrugs and settles her empty glass down. “It’s a tattoo. Well, more specifically, a set of tattoo.”

“Can I see it?”

Madeline doesn’t want to play demure, but she still pauses for a beat, waiting for Renata to address any second thoughts. The moment stretches a little too long before Madeline answers cheerfully, almost nonchalantly. 

“Sure.” She stands up and grimaces. “Ow, Jesus. My foot’s asleep. Wait.” Renata follows suit and stretches her legs on the vacant spot Madeline previously sat, and groans.

“God, me too. How long exactly have we been talking?” She glances at the clock and curses. It’s already midnight, and they feel like only minutes have passed. “You want to stay over? There’s a spare guestroom.”

Just like that, Renata casually offers something Madeline has never dreamt of, the proposition sounds too good to be true.

“I, um. Let me think.”

It’s very hard to say no when everything screams for her to stay. Her whole being wishes to be near Renata after they spent years satelliting each other. She wished she has a good excuse to just freefall and crash into Renata's life.

“While you think, why don’t you show me that mysterious tattoo of yours?”

Renata smirks and lays down her glass. The silk hem of her nightgown rides up at a leisure pace when she maneuvers, unhurriedly turning and setting her bare feet down on the carpet to face Madeline. Madeline watches as the alabaster skin is being revealed in an agonizingly seductive display.

Madeline gulps but stays silent. In fact, she secretly hopes what she’s about to do will catch Renata off guard.

_This is not a competition of teenage foolishness._

Madeline still gets the satisfaction when she moves to stand right in front of Renata, their legs touching. The movement knocks the air out of Renata’s lungs, but Renata doesn’t flinch at the contact.

Madeline successfully elicits surprise as Renata looks up with her mouth slightly agape. Madeline can’t stop now. She uses her fingers to undo the button of her jeans, sucks in a breath, and tugs until she reveals the slightly faded inks.

_“Oh.”_

Of course Renata is going to trace the pattern with her finger, amazed; of course Madeline is going to shiver under her touch, with goosebumps rising all over her body; of course Madeline can feel Renata’s warm breath on her lower abdomen, and there’s a familiar rush that makes her absolutely _drunk_. These are all second-hand experience now, taught and learned from the oldest cliché and sitcoms and commercialized propagandas.

But why does it still feel so breathtaking?

Madeline has a set of tattoo on her hip; a little to the left, two swallows surround a star in the middle. The pattern and style of the tattoo are simple, and it makes Madeline look more innocent, like she’s still in her twenties, looking for a place she can call home.

“When did you have this?”

“This one is after Allison.” She circles the star in a nostalgic motion. “She once said we’re all shining, but sometimes it takes a bit longer for us to see the light. Only hope and love can bring light to the darkness. And this,” Madeline points to one of the swallows, “This is after I divorced Nathan, I want to remind myself freedom comes from responsibility and how I need to be better for Abigail. This other one, is for Ed and Chloe.”

Madeline’s breath got caught in her throat because Renata looks up at her again, with her eyes misted over and pupils dilated. This position has suddenly turned very awkward because basically, Renata is staring at the hem of her underwear, and she can feel the burning sensation as Renata lays her fingers on her tattoo, the touch burning and sending wildfires down Madeline’s spine.

“It’s beautiful.”

Renata says quietly, her voice rasp and low and sincere as she continues to stare into Madeline’s eyes, her fingers still on Madeline’s skin as if she’s testing the outcome of her touch. They both want something, and they are too alike so they’re afraid of the same things. They know the consequences of crossing boundaries. If this were to happen months ago, they would’ve thrown caution into the wind by now. But this is new.

They have everything to lose because of the things they’ve discovered with each other.

Madeline reaches for Renata’s cheek and experimentally caresses her sharp cheekbone with her thumb, the movement careful and precise. The lights in Renata’s eyes flicker but she doesn’t shy away from the affectionate gesture; she seems to relish in the touch, not wanting more and stays truly committed at this moment, with Madeline.

“Thanks, and so do you.”

Renata smiles warmly and her eyes are so mesmerizing as she lifts her hand from Madeline’s abdomen, covering the one on her cheek. Madeline feels less nervous and oddly touched by the intimate response.

Then she gently leads Madeline’s hand with her own, brings them close to her lips, and plants the softest kiss on the back of her palm.

***

Madeline clumsily unbuckles the button of her jeans, blood pounding in her ears. Just arriving home, she’s alone in her car and her breath is shallowed. Madeline has been squirming in her seat since she left Renata’s place, pressing her thighs together to try to relieve the arousal but it’s only gotten worse. It’s been too long.

She closes her eyes and lets it all crash back as she shoves a hand down her underwear.

_One of them (ok, it had to be Madeline) made a move. Maybe it was the alcohol or the lighting was just perfect or maybe, it was just them. The pining the quarreling and the flirting that had been going on for so long they didn’t even recognize it, but it was right here when they needed it—the charge and the electrifying energy don’t just appear out of nowhere when Renata kissed her sweetly on the back of her hand. It was always somewhere in Madeline’s mind. As the sweetness of the gesture struck, it brought out overwhelming feelings from Madeline; the fact that Renata was being unusually tender and warm all night, and even showed something like submission?_

_The animal inside Madeline growled. She pounced on Renata, and the surprising gasp only spurred her as she kissed the taller blond as if she hadn’t been kissed all her life, and was desperate to make up for it. Sitting on Renata’s lap, Madeline finally had a moment of height advantage to make she’s been fantasizing about come true._

_But she would be the ultimate fool to think Renata was anyone near a pillow-princess._

_Renata gave a throaty growl and held onto Madeline, digging her nails into her waist and pulls her smaller body flush towards herself. Madeline had her hands deep in her wild hair as she continued to kiss her, and Renata reciprocated hotly as she moved her hands upwards to explore beneath her sweater. Mewling, Madeline arched her body for the most sudden delicious contact, then buckles for the intense pleasure because of course Renata liked it rough, and would sink her nails down her back._

_Renata tasted like Pinot Noir and mint and just her, the flavor unexpected but so right as Madeline drank all of her down in one breath. Then it was still not enough._

_Madeline pulled on Renata’s hair to expose the column of her neck that had been a tease all night, because for Madeline, she was constantly observing if the wine would make Renata flush all the way there. Renata hissed as she left a trail of kisses down the elongation of her tender flesh, and before she knew it, Renata was making the most ungodly moans that were like music in Madeline’s ears, making Madeline disoriented and flushing so hard that she felt she was burning._

_The last time Madeline felt this far gone was with Joseph, but it was also very different. With him, she felt like playing someone else but the satisfaction of being desired had always made up for it; she was so desperate for adoration and praise, she got into another character just to be seen as someone perfect, so she could lie to herself that she was perfect._

_“Maddie?”_

_She found that she’d stopped midway, panting heavily on Renata’s neck._

_“God, I’m so sorry…” Avoiding Renata’s worried stare, she quickly got off of her lap and redid her jeans, frantic. “I am sorry.”_

_“What’s the matter?”_

_“It’s just…” Madeline didn’t even know she was crying. She aggressively wipes the tear away, the embarrassment continuing to taint her cheeks red. “I don’t know. It’s too much, but not in a bad way. It’s not you. It’s just…god! I don’t want to fuck things up again. Not with you.”_

_Renata’s gaze penetrated her as she stood stock still, trembling and feeling as foolish as ever._

_Then Renata got onto her feet and wrapped her arms around Madeline. She let out a breath as the taller woman’s heartbeat merged with hers, and they were into one. The hug was accepting and promising, making the moment elastic and priceless, because this was not only reconciliation. It had all of the unspoken and mutual understandings._

_“Then we take it slow, silly.” Madeline melted as Renata spoke softly next to her ear, her tone reassuring and gentle. “We’ll figure it out.”_

_“Thank you. For everything.” Renata would know she was not only referring to her forgiving the interruption of their make-out-session. Madeline was thanking for her letting her guards down, her patience, her warmness and so much more. Thanking her, for letting Madeline into her life, making her more than a confidant._

_Renata combed Madeline’s hair soothingly before they ended the embrace. “So, um, I guess I shouldn’t stay the night because I think it would, you know…”_

_Madeline bit her lower lip and stared at the ground, unable to finish the sentence because…god it was back. The arousal came back as the ache pulsing steadily between her legs. Madeline shifted and blushed, feeling transparent and small in Renata’s presence. With some lighthearted chuckles, Renata cups her cheeks in her palm, the gesture tender but effectively made Madeline look into Renata’s azure blues again._

_“You’re so adorable.” She kissed the crown of Madeline’s head chastely. “Admit it. I’m just irresistible. That’s why you can’t stay.”_

_“Shut up. Don’t push it.”_

_Madeline grinned and feigned an eye-roll at the unexpected humor that came just in time, splitting the heavy tension into the realization that they’ve come to a mutual ground._

_“I have proof. I suspect I need to wear a high-collar something tomorrow.”_

_Renata turned slightly and tilted her head in an inviting angle. Madeline stared at three spots of redness on her neck, the color standing boldly against Renata's_ _porcelain skin. She realized that she’d just left three fucking hickeys on the most powerful woman in Monterey._

_And it felt kind of good._

_“You’re going to need a lot of concealer for that. Sorry, and I quote, it’s because you’re just irresistible.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How can I not talk about Reese's tattoos?  
> Also so happy about Laura's Golden Globes' win! She deserves it and so much more.


	8. If this is the love you'll ever get

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, folks, the ultimate chapter of fluff, angst, and smut revolving around two of our favorite blonds.

“I feel this strange thing that’s been happening to me lately…it’s not totally unpleasant. It’s like when you disengaged from a moment you’re devoted to. You detangle and watch yourself interact or simply just… _expand_ , extending that instant into something so big and important that nothing can ever compare.”

Madeline thinks out loud with a small frown, waiting for any kind of response coming from Jane or Celeste.

They’re in their usual spot at the cafe, a small place just five minutes away from Otter Bay. The other parents joke behind their backs, that this is the place where the Monterey Five have their cult meetings. They’re just jealous, having no real friends.

“Fuck, Maddie. This whole divorce arrangement thing with Ed is taking you to a whole new spiritual level.” Jane jokes as Celeste looks at Madeline intently, but doesn’t say a word. “But yeah, I kind of get that.” Jane says, her gaze fixed on something far away. “The moment when nothing is more important than nothingness.”

“Then it’s a good thing, right? I mean, that sounds awfully close to _serenity_ , and we all need peace and quiet in our lives.”

After a pause, Celeste comes up thoughtfully and takes a sip of her coffee. Both Jane and Madeline stare, their expressions pensive with some sort of dawning realization.

“Jeez, that’s it. Serenity. That’s what I’m trying to say.”

Jane smiles at Celeste, her long brown hair unbound, shimmering under the November sun. Celeste smiles, earnest and a little mystic as always, her blue eyes reflecting the cloudless California sky.

Madeline suddenly has the feeling of what Jane described, the first time the three of them had coffee together, about a moment being too perfect. Now she feels that this instant doesn’t quite belong to her.

But it quickly fades away, being replaced by the deep gratitude: she has such wonderful friends that click with her, who are here for her as she walks through the strenuous process of divorce.

Not like she hasn’t done it before, though.

“So Ed is moving out this weekend, right?”

“Yeah, it’s finally happening. I can’t believe it. I’m so glad we don’t have to go to court. I mean, courts in California are practically disasters. Go watch Marriage Story, guys. It’s the ultimate illumination and I cried like, five times.”

“I thought you’re going to say how hot the lawyer is…the one who represents Scarlett Johansson’s character? C’mon, she looks just like—”

“Ok ok! She’s attractive! Can we please move on?”

“Speaking of which... how are things with Renata?” Madeline groans. Not even Celeste wants to cut her some slack.

“How are _you_?”

Madeline’s oddly touched by the sincerity of it.

“Honestly? I’m scared.” She inhales and exhales, feeling better once she says it out loud. “I don’t know who I’m becoming. This woman…I don’t recognize _me_ anymore.”

“Maybe this is who you really are. Who you’re always going to be.”

“Perhaps.”

Madeline stares at the smoke that spirals from the Styrofoam cup. She was planning to meet with Renata in her car so she brought a coffee to go, then she bumped into Jane and Celeste.

Well, Renata doesn’t seem half-mad after she texted back _you’re going to pay me back with more than one kiss._

For the past month, Madeline has been running in circles with divorce. Picking up her old profession at the same time has taken the life out of her. Ed and her both hired lawyers to settle the money, the furniture, who should move out, will it be fifty-fifty custody, and numerous draining details including counseling and countless meetings and disturbing assessments.

No one wins in a divorce, and the only solace Madeline finds, is how Ed has been super cooperative in the process. He also felt it getting to him—the fact that both of them can sleep with random people while staying married, is definitely sending wrong messages to Chloe. After they’ve reached a common ground, the rest is just legal procedure and patience for the dust to settle.

Madeline expects the worst, that if everything drags on, they will at least return to a degree of normalcy by winter break.

“Do you like who you are? I mean, apart from the fact that you’re a little scared.”

Madeline gazes into the greens, and marvels for a second how those pair of eyes make Jane seems older than her age.

“It’s…not so much as _likable_. But…peaceful. I think I’m more at peace with some parts of myself.”

“Well, that’s good news! Not many people can find inner peace.”

“Some even say, if you met the right one, he or she brings out the best of you.”

Madeline shoots Celeste her best death-stare, but failed because she couldn’t help the blush from making her uncomfortably warm at the moment.

“Will you guys stop that? Don’t go there yet. Just like I’ve told you a million times before, we’re not even officially dating, and are absolutely clueless about what we’re doing.”

After that magical, chaotic and transformative night with Renata, they’ve entered a pretty strange relationship. It’s far from perfect, bumpy and energy-consuming, but they both hold on, granting one another permission to know more of who they are. In the process, they hook onto each other despite they are on the same side of a magnetic field; with the repulsion and attraction, they always come back.

Having the job and divorce settlements, Madeline gets one-tenth of how Renata must have felt like all the time: board meetings, relentless fundraisers and work trips, school projects with Amabella, arranging playdates and parties, Renata manages to look like her best self always, sharp and fresh as if she’s just finished a photo shoot even if she’s stayed awake for twenty hours just to solve one more crisis when she could’ve napped on the plane.

“Have you slept together yet?”

Madeline smacks Jane’s hand, abhorred.

“Jane!”

“Ow! It hurts!”

“Of course we didn’t!”

“You know, she isn’t that subtle when you are together in public. Almost all of the parents in Monterey have started to put the pieces together. Did _anything_ happen at all?”

“Um, there was, _were_ a few…kisses, but I swear that’s it.”

Seeing Madeline turning as red as a beetroot, Jane grins.

“It’s amazing to see how Renata just… _change_ when she’s with you. Like, her face and the way she talks are so different.”

Celeste hums along with Jane, adding attentively, “We’ve all noticed how less angry she becomes. I think she’s really happy with you.”

“Aren’t you guys feeling kind of…uncomfortable picturing me and her together?”

Madeline stares at anywhere but her friends’ faces, etched with kindness and authenticity. Of course she knows why: months ago, the rest of the women probably have seen it coming,

“Oh, trust me. We did when we try to imagine you and Ed having sex.” Jane grimaces and Celeste quirks her brow as a silent acknowledgment. “You and Renata make so much sense. And it’s actually hot. She’s definitely a top, by the way.”

“Jesus effing Christ!” Madeline chokes on her coffee. Celeste chuckles and gives Jane a high-five. “I’m going to murder you both!”

“Maybe at least after you get in bed with Renata?”

***

Since the house gets smaller, Amabella’s party this year is close-friends-exclusive. The theme is Peter Pan, so Madeline dressed Chloe up as Tiger Lily (she’s run out of ideas). Ed is in his Peter Pan costume, having the time of his life as he hate-chats with Nathan, Gordon (everyone’s surprised he’s showing up at all) and his new girl-friend (again, surprised that Renata’s shabby ex can lure a girl into his nest so soon).

Madeline is glad she’s dressed up as Tinker Bell instead of Wendy. There are already three Wendys in the house: Skye, Bonnie, and Celeste. The boys are both Peter Pans, and Ziggy chooses to be Mr. Smith of all the characters.

“He said he wants to make people laugh.” Jane exclaims, looking at her son adoringly. “Isn’t he just a wonderfully sweet boy?”

“Yeah. You’ve taught him well.” Madeline smiles and takes a sip from the coconut cup, which looks unexpectedly fitting for the theme. “So, why did you dress like this?”

“Who says I can’t be the younger, hotter version of Captain Hook?”

Madeline stares at Jane’s fake mustache, long red coat, and the hook that she’s given up wearing, now appearing as a bulge in her pocket.

“At least the eyeliners are great.”

Jane playfully winks and feigns a frown.

“I should tone down my charisma, or your girlfriend there is going to be upset.” Madeline rolls her eyes and turns to look at the willowy figure, who’s now chatting animatedly (albeit a little aggressive) with Bonnie and Celeste. Judging by the amount of amusing smirks and raised brows, the conversation is probably filled with vivid descriptions of graphic gossip.

If looks could kill, Madeline would be dead when she set foot in Renata’s house. Renata looks stunning. She’s cleverly dressed as one of the anonymous pirates from Hook’s ship, making sure she’ll definitely be the only one in the room who doesn’t have others parodying her character.

Not like they’ll look half as breathtaking as her if that happened.

Starting with a paisley patterned bandana, Renata’s hair is unbound and wild, done in messy waves of curls. Her makeup is flawless, because how could Renata not pull off some edgy, grungy, gothic smokey-eyes and dark-purple lips?

The red off-shoulder shirt Renata is in, flare-sleeved with a few buttons lose, matches perfectly with the bandana. If Madeline dared to investigate where the neckline ends (which she couldn’t help but let her gaze roam), she would find it disappearing underneath a tight black corset that highlights all of Renata’s assets. Then, the ultimate surprise is being presented—Renata is wearing a pair of skin-tight leather pants, and leather fuck-me boots. All of those combined make Renata a walking-sex, the ultimate combination of sultriness, attractiveness, and gloriousness.

Madeline tries not to glare at the men who’ve secretly, or not so secretly checked Renata out. But then she relaxes since they’re all too afraid of Renata in her usual strong presence, enhanced by the four-inched, laced-up knee-high boots she’s wearing.

After Madeline eyed her thoroughly at the beginning of the party, the image of Renata is branded in her mind. What’s worse, she’s learned that the feeling is mutual. Renata shared a look of unveiled lust with her from across the room after taking in Madeline’s outfit as well, which features a green, strapless v-neckline dress that’s uncomfortably tight but very flattering, and a pair of green heels (extremely high and uncomfortable, but she needs the height).

Madeline feels naked ever since if she caught Renata staring at her with a small smirk, or the kind of gaze that makes Madeline’s mouth go dry and her face flush.

“I know she’s been looking at you when you’re not sneaking glances at her.”

“What?”

Madeline whirls back in frantic, trying to come up with anything to prove she’s not doing exactly what Jane accuses her of.

“I don’t get it. You two are already together for a month, she’s pretty open about your dating progress, then why are you acting so secretive about it?”

“I’m just…trying to keep a low profile! I don’t want Renata to have another target on her back. She has too much to lose, and I’m still at a pretty unstable stage…wait a minute.” Madeline narrows her eyes and the cruel truth dawned. “That’s why you guys always have something fresh to tease me with! Renata’s been telling you all of…all of…”

Oh god, what has Renata told them? The fact that to find times to be together, they send each other their schedules? The fact that Madeline would get into Renata’s car every morning just to bring her a fresh cup of coffee (and they would share a kiss)? The fact that no matter how busy, they’ve managed to talk every day on the phone? The secret meet-ups where they just held hands and watch the sunsets on Madeline’s private beach? The fact that Madeline cries a lot with Renata because she feels she’s the only one closest to knowing her pain? The fact that Renata knows literally every single detail of her divorce process, and Madeline, the first time in a very long time, doesn’t feel _guilty_ with sharing all of the things with someone like Renata?

The fact that, after all this time and how far they’ve been through, they’ve yet to say _I love you_ to each other?

“Relax, Maddie. Seriously. Renata has been patient and taking things slow, and that means she cherishes this as much as you do, right?”

“How do you know about her _dating pace_? Is there anything I should know?”

Jane opens her mouth, then closes after her attention is being caught by something else.

“Ask her yourself. She’s coming this way. Hey Renata!”

“Hi, Jane. Don’t you look dashing?”

Renata has walked across the room, putting an arm around Madeline’s waist in the progress like she’s done it a million times before. Jane smirks as she sees how Madeline almost squeals, and the smug look settling on Renata’s face once she’s secured her girlfriend in her arm.

“You look awesome, too. Madeline has been paying you compliments.”

“Oh, she does. I see.”

Renata purrs, and it makes Madeline’s heart jumps faster, forgetting to come up with a denial. Now they’re standing so close, Madeline can feel the energy vibrating off of Renata’s skin.

“Anyways, I should go check on Ziggy to make sure he isn’t a part of any coup like drawing walls with crayons. I’ll see you guys later.”

Before Renata or Madeline can respond, Jane slips off into the crowd and heads to the boys with a smirk on her face.

_She’s doing this on purpose. Leaving her all alone with Renata._

“Let’s go somewhere quiet.”

***

Five minutes later, after a couple of polite greetings and halfhearted compliments, they find themselves alone on the loveseat beside the pool.

Renata sits down with a huff and Madeline grins at her obvious disgruntle.

“If only I could take those off…”

Renata stares at Madeline enviously after she’s taken her heels off and tugs herself comfortably in their seat.

“Lucky me, though. You look _ravishing_.”

Madeline smiles a bashfully and leans in, all her worries and anxiety gone once Renata chuckles and captures her lips in the middle. Then she gasps when Renata puts a hand on her bare knee.

“Did you notice how everyone has been staring at you?” Renata murmurs against her lips and stealthily slides her warm hand up towards her thigh. Madeline bites her lips. “I wish I could tell them to quit staring at my woman or I’ll kick them in the balls.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” Madeline manages shakily after a gulp, thanking the gods (but then a little disappointed) that Renata hasn’t ventured further; judging by how hot and bothered Renata has made her, she seriously considers to let Renata continue. Renata shoots her an evil smile as if she knows what’s on her mind, and uses her thumb to clean the dark lipstick from Madeline’s face. “Anyways. Jane mentioned something about you dating very quickly, and she won’t spill the whole story.”

Renata stops her movement and frowns. Madeline shifts in her seat so she can rest her head on Renata’s shoulder. Ruined makeup be damned; she plans on stealing more kisses anyway.

Renata smells expensively divine, a combination like Chanel and L’Oréal. Madeline stops herself from burying her nose into Renata’s neck or her hair, wondering why what takes Renata so long.

“Jane is probably talking about me and Janine. It was nothing major, though.”

Madeline freezes.

“You slept with your _divorce lawyer_?”

“It was…convenient, and we were under a lot of stress, apparently.” An undercurrent of unease possesses the air as Madeline sits back a little and inspects Renata’s face, which is definitely blushing under layers of makeup. It’s like Renata’s guilty or uneasy of something. “It went for a couple of times, and when the divorce was over, we lost touch.”

“Oh.”

Madeline knits her brows together, trying to process the fact Renata has slept with a woman she’d known before. She tries to picture them together, but it’s too bizarre…Janine, in Madeline’s best remembrance, is a very calm, collected brunet, eyes brown and sharp, dressed impeccably in suit and ties and a pair of black leather shoes blindingly shiny, talks rationally with a rhythm that lulls everyone into a daze, and has some sort of fixation with Starbucks and Rolex. She’s the opposite of Renata, who’s fiery, passionate and not afraid to let everyone know how she thinks, one moment dangerously charming, poisoning you to death in the next.

Renata must have mistaken Madeline’s contemplation as something else, because now her posture is stiff, and there’s a nervous look in her eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me? We’re best friends! There’s no shame in sleeping with somebody else when you’re single, and you’re both grown adults who are perfectly capable of dealing with this kind of things such as consensual sex—”

“I was thinking of you.” Renata snaps, swallows, and stares down at her laps. Madeline’s jaw drops. “I was picturing her as you when we’re having sex, Ok? Just so you know, I’m perfectly fine of her screaming somebody else’s name, too.”

They sink into a period of awkward silence. At first, Madeline is busy wrapping her head around the idea that Renata has desired her in such an early stage of their relationship.

But if she’s honest with herself, she can’t tell when was the first time either—when she finds it difficult to decide whether to slap Renata, or to kiss and bite her till she bleeds.

“Um, I’m flattered?” Renata jerks her head up and widens her eyes at the sore response. Then it strikes Madeline, the absurdity of the revelation and the consequent uneasiness. She bursts into laughter, leaving Renata staring with increasing bewilderment. “I’m sorry…I was just, thinking how stupid and stubborn and…ugh! We’re just so alike.” She smiles broadly at Renata after fits of laughter, no longer fretting over some unimportant dalliance when they could’ve enjoyed one another’s company. Madeline leans towards the gorgeous pirate-woman side, and feels how worked up they’ve been, judging by how frigid Renata’s shoulders are. “Think about all the time we wasted on bluffing and pining.”

Voice muffled in the wild jungle of blond curls, she knows Renata has relaxed and gotten over the embarrassment after learning Madeline’s final thought. The last thing Madeline wants, is to add more stress onto her when Renata’s finally gotten the chance to stop for a breath, in a middle of a warzone, a party which she’s meticulously planned and prepared beforehand.

“Yeah.” Renata laughs dryly, relieved, and shifts until they’re both comfortable. She lethargically puts a sheltering arm around Madeline, as if the movement costs all her energy but she’s doing it anyway. Madeline is invited closer to recline her head on Renata's shoulder. She murmurs, “Comfy…”, and smiles contently at Renata’s agreeing hum. Madeline loses herself in the touch, the perfume, and the warmth. “But you can’t deny that it was fun.”

“Yep.” Madeline answers, her boldness growing as she notes the lazy drawl coloring Renata’s tone. She allows herself to venture and reaches for Renata’s right hand. “I’m happy that we get here before, you know…” Madeline holds her hand and starts to lightly caress Renata’s knuckles, lost in her own imagination. “Before one of us slap another, and then the next second ending up screwing or something.”

Renata chuckles as she laces their hands together, finding that vivid and humorous. 

“Me too. And, it sounds like you’ve had quite the time of your life coming up with that scenario.”

“Says the woman who just admits she screams my name every time she gets off.”

“Hmm…well. _You never know._ ”

Renata’s voice dips closer to a growl, and it causes Madeline to stiffen. Just like that, the table is turned.

Renata untwines their hand and the next thing Madeline knows, she’s putting it on her naked thigh, which is right below the hem of her dress, her body turning to a better angle so she can devour her prey.

“Renata? What are you—oh!”

She tightens her hand, effectively silencing the upcoming protest. Madeline’s breathing shallows, but she doesn’t stop Renata.

“I bet you want to see how I scream, huh?” Eyes impossibly dark, she loosens her grip, and starts to stroke Madeline’s upper thighs. With each caress, she brings her hand closer to Madeline’s center. Madeline bites her lower lip and squeezes her eyes shut, trying not to keen or moan, but fails when Renata suddenly grips hard.

“Ah!” Madeline quickly covers her mouth, her whole body flush and strung. She can feel the wetness pooling between her legs, and she wonders if Renata can smell her arousal now. “Renata…we’re in a…public…”

“Do you want me to stop?” Squirming for more pressure, Madeline opens her legs slightly against her better judgment, and turns her head to muffle her cry in Renata’s shoulder when she roughly spreads her legs, and reaches until she’s just about to touch where Madeline needs the most. “Hmm?”

“Yes! I mean…no…but…”

“Guys?”

Bonnie’s voice calls from behind. Madeline jumps as Renata quickly draws her hand out under her dress.

“Yes?”

Renata raises her voice and turns around as if nothing happened. She is worth ten Oscars. Madeline, however, waits for herself to cool off. She can still hear how loud she and Renata’s hearts are beating.

Bonnie says something about Skye being a little feverish so they need to take off early. Renata sounds genuinely surprised and concerned as she asks about Skye’s condition, then Madeline gets up (forgetting her heels) to check on Skye, ignores all the suspicious glances at her bare feet, and says goodbye to Bonnie and her family.

After the whole episode, Madeline stares at Renata, face still warm.

“What?”

“You…Renata Klein…” Madeline strides towards her and smacks her hip.

“Ow!”

“…are unbearably sexy, and just unbearable most of the time.”

Then she tiptoes and kisses Renata before she has the chance to react.

“Tomorrow, do you want to um, come over and have lunch? I mean at my house, because of the schedule. It’s the first week that we start to do the whole arrangement thing, and tomorrow is Ed’s turn to—”

“Yes.” Madeline blinks and stops stammering. Renata smirks, uses both hands to tilt Madeline’s face upwards gently, and cleans off the residual lipstick on Madeline’s awe-stricken face. “You forgot, that we’ve literally memorized each other’s schedules. So, _yes_.”

“Ok.”

Madeline beams. They are in their universe as Renata smiles tenderly, almost indulgingly at Madeline’s unrestrained happiness and affection. At this moment, as Renata holds the softest cheeks in her palms, she wonders if bliss has ever truly existed in her life, because nothing seems to compare to _this_.

***

“Mom, you look great. As I said a hundred times before.”

“Are you sure it’s really not too casual or too much or summer-ish or anything?”

“Remember, go light on the makeup. Makeup-sex is messy and hot, but none of us like the taste of foundation.”

“Abigail Carlson! What—”

“Gotta go! Bye, mom!”

“Bye woman!”

“Madeline! Remember we’re coming back at seven!”

With a bang, the Mackenzie-squad has left the house. Madeline groans.

Was Ed giving her some sort of cue, that if she and Renata are about to have sex, they should stop before they come home? How considerate.

Madeline is in an indigo floral-printed dress, long-sleeved, with a drawstring that smartly highlights her waistline. The neckline of the dress is between scooped and v-shaped since she’s undone a button or two, so she can (ideally) appear relaxed. Since she’s been cooking, she’s wavered the notion of heels, wearing a pair of skinny-strapped sandals instead.

Lunch is roasted-salmon with butter, salad dressings, and some fried rice in case they are afraid they don’t have enough gluten already. Madeline has gone adventurous on cooking. Since Ed won’t be around too often to prepare meals anymore, she’s learning how to advance in the craft and hopefully, mastering it.

So far, she hasn’t set the kitchen on fire.

The door opened by itself, and Madeline rolls her eyes with a grin.

“Fuck it smells good!”

“Hey, Renata.”

She stirs the rice and the rest of the ingredients in the skillet, makes a large well in the middle, and pours the whisked eggs into the center.

“Mmm…babe.” Renata appears right behind, and snakes her hand around her (but the sound of Renata’s heels has revealed her movements). She almost lost hold of the stir when Renata purrs right next to her ear, “…smells delicious. Love the ponytail.”

She pretends to twirl with a strand of Madeline’s hair, but her true intentions are revealed when she lets go, and leans forward to press feather-like kisses on Madeline’s bare neck. Madeline gasps and flushes, her body responding itself as she tilts her head to grant her more access.

“If you don’t stop, the eggs are going to burn.”

Madeline murmurs, although she can’t care less about the damned eggs as long as she can feel Renata’s breath and lips on her. Renata gives a throaty chuckle, and pecks Madeline around her temple, detangling herself and then wordlessly starts to prepare the table. Madeline exhales and starts to examine how big the damage on the rice is.

“I brought wine.”

“Oh goodie. Hey, you mind checking the oven? The salmon is almost ready.”

***

Forty minutes later, they have already gone over the millionth topic of the day, the conversation flowing melodically and sporadically, animated and enraged and enthusiastic. If Renata finished Madeline’s sentence, she’ll make sure what she offers next is as exciting or more interesting as their previous subject. It’s a game of give and take.

Then it eventually progresses into somewhere deep, a private conversation that’s only permitted if they were alone.

“You must have caught on something, right? There must be some signs that point to the fuckery.”

“Yeah, there were. But I turned a blind eye on it. There was always something more important than an unfaithful husband…I guess I was just too scared to believe. I mean, look at me.” Renata throws her hands in the air, as if she’s too frustrated so she’s surrendering. “I didn’t face it because I knew I would be devastated, and it would tear my whole family apart.”

“But you did solve everything in the end.”

“A higher hand forced me to, aka, bankruptcy with a capital-fucking-B? Fuck, I often wake up from sleep because of the nightmares. Imagine everything you’ve built in your whole were gone in an instant, and before you have the chance to rise up, the fucker who’s responsible then dick-slaps you in the face like you’re some two-dollar whore.” Madeline’s stomach turns to stone, not because of the profanity. She can see how Renata’s been suffering from the catastrophe; when she speaks with her usual dramatic flair, something lethally vulnerable appears in her body language, and Madeline can see the fatigue on Renata’s face even if the whole event has come to an end, months ago. “Remember the time Jane, you and I were sitting outside and we were smoking?”

“Feels like…ages ago. But I still remember.”

“Jane asked why I stay, then I accidentally brought up the whole cheater and the cheatee thing, killing the conversation dead.”

Madeline chuckles and shakes her head.

“I was over-sensitive and immature. It was that fucking psycho Marry Louise who really killed the conversation.”

“Don’t forget her son.”

Madeline gasps but can’t control her laughter, a little incredulous, as Renata calmly forks another bite-sized fish, daintily putting it in her mouth, unaffected by the taboo joke she’s responsible for.

“You are _so_ bad, Renata. I really shouldn’t be laughing at a car accident…a boy was dead!” Renata raises her brows at Madeline. “Anyways, so did you bring that up to hint we should smoke?”

“No.”

She rolls her eyes and Madeline smirks. They are sitting adjacent with each other, where Renata has unsurprisingly taken the seat the hostess should sit. Madeline consequently followed to sit as “the guest of honor”. Renata looks as perfect as always, although in a different way; she’s in a long-sleeved (now carelessly rolled up), black turtle-neck, a pair of faded blue jeans and ankled-boots. Madeline’s heart warms at the sight of her, who voids of the habitual emphasize on sharping herself up, usually by blazer or power-jackets; who voids of expensive accessories or having a flawless hairdo; who’s now laid-back and alone with her in her big empty house, not opting to do anything else and just spend time with Madeline.

“You remember I talked about why we always stay no matter what happens. What I was trying to say is, it gets lonely on that road to where I am.” Madeline leans forward and listens intently. “It gets lonely for everyone, that’s for sure. I’ve watched and heard men or even feminists talk about paradigm shift, women in power and all that. But it’s all bullshit. Nothing is going to change unless I do it first, and in the tech business, nobody would listen to a nobody unless you’ve got real stuff and a backbone, and sometimes, wit and pretty face aren’t even close to enough. You need a pretty mouth to make the men cum in gold, and talks them into their places when opportunities present themselves. Gordon was there when I had nothing and that was why I stayed. He was the only one _there_ , you know?”

Renata slouches slightly as she stares at her empty glass, defeated but tremendously relieved. Madeline worries her bottom lip and unhurriedly takes a sip of her wine, being reminded why she’s head over heels for this woman.

She tries to imagine all the hardships Renata has to endure, how she’s trained herself to become who she has to be. How men would listen to their female boss, how Renata has suffered to figure out what would work to make herself heard in the doggy-dog business world, how she comes to use wealth, fashion and strength and boys-club talk to achieve her goals, affecting changes in the Silicon Valley because she’s a woman on top.

“Some people are just irreplaceable, no matter how they’ve come to hurt us or betray us.” Madeline says quietly, feeling Renata’s gaze refocusing on her. “Because we’ve given so goddamn much along the way, and it’s already a part of us, you know?” Madeline looks into Renata’s eyes, blue-green and absorbing. “The history is made, and we’re made. There’s no turning back. People talk about forgive and forget all the time, and I used to think: how the fuck would someone be able to do that? How can you let go of who you are, and just _whoosh_ , move on? But now I sort of get it. It’s not about forgiving and forget, it’s embrace and… _love_.”

The air quiets down into a noiseless tremble, leaving the pair looking at each other, the moment shaking them to a daunting realization about what they’ve done. It’s always meant to get here, the war and game they’ve thrown themselves in.

Madeline swallows, and Renata finally adverts her eyes after she finds how suffocating it’s all becoming. Staring down at her hands, Madeline finds they’re wrung together tightly and she forces herself to untangle them. She stands up, bombarded with chaotic feelings being tossed at her again. This time, however, Madeline doesn’t regret a thing. She goes straight to the cupboard storing ceramics they haven’t used in years, watching Renata from the corner of her eye, and digs out a pack of Marlboros and a lighter.

Renata joins her on the terrace soon after.

“I thought you’d be smoking something like Virginia or Davidoff.”

“My grandfather used to chain-smoke this brand, so I guess you can’t really forget about a smell…or a taste.”

Madeline takes a long drag and turns around, finding Renata staring at the ocean with a little frown as she did previously, pensive. Her eyes are squinting a little in the light, and her stance is not strung nor relaxed, but rather straggled, like the strength in her was gone in the face of something so much bigger than herself.

They share a level of pitifulness, Madeline dares to say, that whenever they have the chance to overlook grand and beautiful things, they aren’t really appreciating the sight. She wonders when they can just _be_ , to truly live in a moment where they don’t need disguises.

“Want one?”

“I’ll just…share.” Madeline dutifully hands the thin-white cigarette into Renata’s long, slender fingers, and she takes a long drag. In the course of her exhalation, she comments, “You’ve become so much better at this, by the way.”

Madeline laughs dryly and hops to sit on the table, so she can look at Renata without constantly raising her head.

She beckons Renata for her turn, and she gives the cigarette back, not meeting Madeline’s eyes, and leans onto the armrest of the chair.

“How come you’re so natural at this?”

“You’re going to be disappointed, it’s not the typical kind of cigarette-after-sex story.” Renata shrugs, her voice raspy after the inhalation. Madeline raises her brow. “You’ll be surprised how you can get information or coerce someone to side with you after a smoke. The men have their romantic ideas and heroisms, I just wrap it up, and sell them what they want.”

“That sounds very clever.”

“I just hope I don’t get any cancer. Don’t want to end up like my father.”

“I thought it was because of the drinking?”

Renata smiles humorlessly, the sadness and frustration so transparent that Madeline’s heart aches.

“He was infusing himself with all the poisons he could find. I don’t know what had really killed him.” Renata sets her jaw and takes another drag. “I hope it was the guilt and the loneliness, though.”

Madeline opens her mouth, then closes. Renata sends a look of inquiry in her direction, undisturbed.

“I’m just curious, that before and after all of this, the divorce the lie the choking, do you feel…I mean, do you have regrets?”

Renata hugs herself, and lowers her gaze at Madeline’s hand. She puts the filtered end between her lips and holds the cigarette there, reaches for Madeline’s right wrist, and not so stealthily takes her hair tie, which Madeline has taken off after she finished cooking. Ignoring Madeline’s silent protest, Renata pulls her hair into a ponytail at a measured pace, preventing them from getting into her face.

Madeline watches in a trance, observing the cigarette that dangles from Renata’s mouth, and how she manages to look so otherworldly-beautiful in the process.

“Perhaps I have, if I’m honest. But they’re not enough for me to want to go back, and change things.” Renata drops her hands onto her laps. “I mean, how could I ever be the same if I were to _pursue_ the money and power, with more than one focus on my mind? All the rage the single-minded want and the energy…strip them away, I was nothing. How can I go back and tell the truth to myself, that she is _nothing_?”

“Young-Renata would probably do something horribly vengeful to you. I can just imagine.” A wry smile makes its way on Renata’s face, a sign Madeline interprets that she’s not upset, just finding joy in brutal honesty. “Though, on the flip side of the coin she couldn’t have possibly imagined the friends she’ll make.”

“Yeah, so is tolerating a broken marriage, a town that despises her, and hiding manslaughter.” Madeline sends her a knowing, sad little smirk, and takes the cigarette back before it burns into a stub. Renata adjusts her posture, then changes her mind as she languidly pushes the chair aside, propping herself gracefully on the table to sit beside Madeline. “But friends are great. I can’t deny it.”

“I bet neither one of us have anything like a support group before. Like you said, it gets lonely for everyone.”

“Yeah, it does.” A silent interval takes place again, this time peaceful but no less heavy, as they do anything to avoid turning around and look into each other’s eyes. Renata huffs and continues, as if she’s reluctant but determined to get something off of her chest. “Friends are god-sent gifts, but not even confidants are going to be with you all night when you have nightmares. Unfortunately, in reality, they’re not going to wait up all night for you, comfort you, or give up their lives just to help you. _They_ are not forever. Friends don’t stay forever.”

Madeline doesn’t know what to say, but she knows where this is going since she understands Renata well enough. She is echoing their unfinished conversation, and Madeline hopes desperately, that Renata will say or do something to take on what must be resolved, or at least push Madeline to give a definition for where, or what they are.

Madeline puts the cigarette butt in the ashtray, and brushes the hair out of her face to take in Renata’s profile.

“I was…I _still_ am, so hungry for love.” Renata stops for a small gulp, and Madeline’s grip on the table tightens, curbing her itch to reach out for Renata’s hand. The last thing she wants is jeopardizing the discourse. “That I’ve long embraced, even being addicted to the substitutes, all the materialistic things imaginable. I chase them for love, and it makes me insatiable. I always know it’ll not work out in the end. I can’t even replace that love for the tenderness and affection from friendship, that is, as though I have plenty of real friends before I met you guys…”

Renata trails off, disoriented, brows knitting together with her mouth curving downward.

“What do you want?” Madeline’s voice is small but unwavering, clear in the wind. She shoots her head up and bores her gaze in Madeline's eyes, solemn and frantic as if she’s begging for a pardon, or anything that can show her a direction. “What do you really want now?”

“I…” She purses her lips and squeezes her eyes shut. Madeline’s whole body is buzzing, her heart drumming steadily in her chest. “I…Madeline...”

“Do you want to know what I want?”

Madeline exhales shakily, and Renata snaps open her eyes and she instantly feels it, the steeliness of the sapphire blues cutting into her.

“Yes.”

“I want to love someone who loves me back. I want to share the ugliest parts of me, knowing that it wouldn’t scare them away, and they would share all of themselves, too. I want authenticity.” Madeline pauses and takes a deep breath, feeling the inevitable forming steadily in the air. “I agree that friends won’t stay no matter what, and I always know that kind of love won’t be enough. I need to love, and be loved unconditionally. I need the kind of love that’s daring, accepting and real. I need someone bold enough to rip me in half and strong enough to put me back together.”

Renata’s remains immobile with an expression unreadable. All Madeline can tell, are the wheels now spinning rapidly in Renata’s head.

Finally, she articulates with some difficulty, words calculated and cautious.

“What if…what if what you want is not you need…or the other way round?”

“For me, I know for a fact that I need love. My last two marriages were based on it, and it got me the happiness of my life, Abigail and Chloe. But my exs were just…they don’t see me as who I am. I can be friends with Ed—hell, even be friends with Nathan. I would not lie that they do know me very well after all those years of being together, but that love has faded. Turned. I wanted Ed’s love and approval even if it’s not what I need. I needed Nathan’s support though his love is not what I want.”

Madeline has the feeling of _serenity_ again, like Jane and Celeste have proposed, except this time she doesn’t extend herself into the atmosphere. She feels like she has disintegrated herself into something frank, astral and fearless not because she’s being forced to escape this moment, more like she needs to be this way in order to be bigger, and more accepting.

To generate love.

Madeline suddenly understands, that all the excuses she comes up for herself don’t matter anymore. She’s always meant to be this way, if not yet, to be someone capable of unconditional love. The calmness and courage are always under her belt…the qualities she has, to love and be loved, are always there. She just doesn’t know how to wield them very well yet.

But she’s ready whether if she’s prepared.

“So, how about you, Renata?”

She steadily raises her head and meets Madeline’s eyes, but falters at the last moment. Madeline knows whatever Renata’s decision is going to be, she will love her because she can. Because she understands Renata better than anyone else, because she has faith in Renata’s strength, because she believes in them as a unit. Madeline uses her gentlest voice and asked again, “What do you want?”

_“I’m sorry.”_

Voice rasp and hushed, Renata sighs tremulously, her eyes brimming with tears as she hops down the table to face the ocean, leaving Madeline staring at her dark silhouette. She wipes off her tears in rapid movement, her back facing Madeline, and Madeline remains in her position, giving Renata the space she needs.

Her throat closes up a little as she stares at her lap. Renata is not leaving, nor is she saying things denying all of Madeline’s confessions.

The things they say echoes in Madeline’s mind, as she slowly inhales and exhales, permitting herself to _feel_.

What’s been done has been done. There were no regrets for Madeline, and she’ll make sure that she makes none in the future.

“I’m sorry because I don’t know what to say now.” Renata’s words pull her back to reality as she stares at the woman in distraught, now standing right in front of her, fists clenching tightly beside her laps. “I’ve always been the kind of people who…who act on impulsive feelings and intuitions. I never stop to think. I care about what others think too much. I need to be in control to feel safe. I work and then overwork. I am weak and…and…”

“I know.”

Madeline smiles faintly, now having the courage to reach for Renata’s hand and holds it firmly with both of her hands, like she’s trying to imbue Renata some of her bravery and honesty, or to give her a piece of herself. Renata’s chest is heaving, but she doesn’t flinch at the touch. She looks at Madeline like she’s never seen someone like her before, like she’s awed and amazed and heartbroken at the same time.

Madeline gulps, and says in her steadiest voice.

“And that’s why I love you.”

Renata pauses, blinks, and tears start to spill out of her eyes, streaking down her face as she stares and stares, until she can no more. She leans over, almost like collapsing, and collects Madeline into a hug. As Renata sighs shakily next to her ear, Madeline pulls her closer and feels how they tremble, body and soul, with different minds that speak the same language.

“Fuck, Madeline. I think I love you, too.”

Madeline gives a tearful chuckle, glad that she’s sitting because she’s really experiencing how it feels to be weak in the knees.

“Well, I’m happy—” Madeline says throatily as they detangle with each other, feeling inseparable as ever. “—that the feeling is mutual.”

Renata huffs and wipes the moisture away like she’s angry with herself.

“Fuck, I’m such an idiot.” She avoids Madeline’s gaze for a second to look around with a wild, ironic grin, her eyes shining brighter than the sun, and she shakes her head, her stance firmer and calmer. “You’re an idiot, too.” Renata says with laughter and relief coloring her voice.

Before Madeline has the chance for rebuttal, she receives the most heartfelt kiss that melts all her worries and anxiety, as Renata cups her cheeks like she’s the only precious thing in her life.

“I want you, Madeline.” Renata says shakily, their breaths labored for the lack of oxygen, foreheads touching and leaning towards each other like their strength has been used up by the kiss. “That’s my final answer.”

This time without preamble, Madeline surges forward for more, more of the passion and love and _Renata_.

Blood burning and rushing almost audibly, Renata reciprocates with her thumbs sliding lower on Madeline’s neck as if she can’t decide between feeling the pulse beneath or cradling the smooth skin there. Madeline shivers, and hooks her legs around Renata’s hip with reckless abandon, wanting to keep her there forever. She holds Renata’s slender waist in her hands, never feeling she has more than what she’s got this moment.

At some point, they pivot towards one another, their bodies fit flush together perfectly—then someone hisses hotly, breaking the kiss with an uncontrollable buckle forward, bringing out a loud, filthy yet delicious moan. Madeline realizes she’s the one responsible for biting Renata’s lip and the sinful sound, deriving from her needy, flushing body.

Startled but too far gone to care, she stares at Renata’s pupil-dilated eyes, all dark and lustful because of her. She reaches to touch her kiss-swollen lip, half inspecting if she’s made her bleed, and Renata’s lips part at the gentle touch.

Then something hardens in Renata’s eyes that makes Madeline shiver, reminding her all of the dirty signals, the hungry stares and riling words leaving her absolutely breathless and hot, the teases and touches that make her unbelievably aroused and wet and frustrated.

She needs to take care of the frustration and want, _now_.

*** 

When they crash-land on Madeline’s duvet, they don’t even bother to close the door.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this.”

Renata rumbles. Hovering above Madeline, she pins her hands above her head with a predatory look. Madeline holds back a whimper and tries not to jerk her hips upward for friction. Renata stares down at her triumphantly.

“Maybe, since you started to fuck your lawyer?”

She’s not always this antagonizing, but Renata can always bring out that side of her, as she struggles to loosen her hands from Renata’s death-grip, finding satisfaction when fury flashes by Renata’s face.

The short-lived defiance serves as gasoline as she growls, sealing Madeline’s mouth with another angry kiss as they fight for control.

Learning from her previous lesson, Renata nibbles on Madeline’s bottom lip and drags it between her teeth instead of biting down, the gesture sensual and effectively distracting Madeline from writhing. She thrusts herself forward blindly, and is met with playful chuckles from Renata. Madeline searches her eyes, and sees the affection behind the desire-clouded azures. She bites her bottom lip, suddenly self-conscious at her own neediness.

“Seems like I’m not the only impatient one.”

Renata mumbles next to Madeline’s ear, and nibbles on her earlobe. Madeline moans and turns her head, granting Renata more of her vulnerable neck, expecting any kind of stimulation that can bring her close to the tumbling release. She’s not disappointed because Renata seizes the chance as soon as her throat is exposed, and she bites down, soothing the offended skin with tongue and sloppy kisses afterward. The ache in Madeline’s core intensifies as she now wriggles uncomfortably beneath, keening and mewling as Renata begins to suck bruises on the other side of the crook of her neck, with one hand inside of Madeline’s dress, exploring the soft curves and skin everywhere.

Madeline thinks she can come any second now, and confirms the fact when Renata dangerously rests her knee between her legs, parting them in the process, and thrusts forward.

“Ahh! Fuck…”

She groans loudly, then grinds herself on Renata’s lap with sensory-overload. They both gasp when finding out how damp Madeline’s underwear has become.

“So fucking wet…”

Madeline never has time to feel embarrassed because Renata is already tugging the dank fabric off impatiently, and she lifts herself fervently for better access. The cool air hits her overheated wetness as Renata roughly spreads her legs open, and keeps them parted with nails sinking down on Madeline’s pale, smooth thighs.

“Renata…please…just, fuck me…” Jaw unhinged, Madeline almost can’t believe she’s begging like this when Renata drags her tongue over her labia, so close to her entrance, collecting the moisture there. The sensation is bringing her steadily closer but denying what she wants. “Stop teasing!”

Renata hums and shifts, sinking her teeth down Madeline’s inner thigh; she squeals at the pain and feels more turned on than ever.

“Don’t—” Growling, Renata leaves trails of kisses over the red mark, then gives her another bite, this time on the other thigh and so much closer to her dripping center. Madeline wails and gyrates her hips. “—ever tell me—” She soothes over the delicate skin there with a swipe of her tongue, using her vacant hand to push Madeline’s thighs impossibly apart. “—what to do.”

Then she attaches her tongue onto Madeline’s clit.

Head jerking to the other side as she stifles a scream, her hand immediately flies down to grab a hold of Renata’s ponytail as she pushes her pelvis up for more of Renata’s lips and tongue. Renata gives a surprised grunt; the vibration makes Madeline cry as she uses another hand to grab ahold of the bedsheet for support. Renata seems oddly propelled by the gesture as she redoubles her effort, applying more suction on Madeline’s clit.

She comes expectantly with a yelp and prolonged mewl, as white lights explode behind her closed-lids and her abdomen muscles spasming wildly, gushes of fluid coating Renata’s chin as her pussy convulses violently around nothing.

“Well…that was terribly fast…” Madeline pants, trying to steady her breath as Renata languidly wipes the moisture away with the sleeve of her turtleneck, perching up from the edge of the bed. “…and how come you’re still fully clothed?”

“Someone was eager.”

Renata shrugs and smirks at Madeline’s evident bashfulness; she sets that trap for herself, though. After the mind-blowing orgasm, none of her thoughts are coherent.

“Take your clothes off.” Although her voice is still breathy, Madeline sits up and rolls her neck with glint and a specific want in her eyes, the kind that she’s learned to repress with Ed around.

But now, he’s no longer a factor, and so is Renata’s husband.

Renata quirks her brows and does absolutely nothing, with her hands across her chest and smugness tugging the corner of her mouth. Madeline knows better. Judging from Renata’s flushed face and the squirm that she’s failed hide, Madeline licks her lips and tries to imagine what it’ll be like when Renata do squirm beneath her, begging for Madeline to fuck her. And she can’t wait to fuck that cheeky smile off of Renata’s face.

So she crawls unhurriedly towards Renata with after-sex triumph and glow, until she’s close enough to give her a kiss. Renata shivers and purrs, arching her back with pleasure when Madeline sneaks a hand under her sweater, cupping Renata’s breast roughly.

“And you better give me back that hair tie.”

***

About an hour and a half later, the women lie across the haphazard bed, boneless, fully unclothed and satiated. Renata is enjoying the blissful nothingness on her stomach, resting her head on her hands with her face hidden from Madeline. Madeline perches up, and looks over at the tangled blond hair affectionately. She gathers the waves of curls and pushes them aside, exposing Renata’s bare neck and back.

Renata gives a protesting grunt which is muffled by the pillow, although Madeline doubts if she’s truly meant it.

“No more…god. I can’t believe there is actually someone in the world who’s as insatiable as I am.”

Chuckling, Madeline starts to draw lazy, child-like circles on Renata’s shoulder, tracing the sculpted surface (mostly appreciating the marks she’s left) of her back.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“If you keep doing that, I might fall asleep.”

“Why? I have magical-hypotonic-hands?”

She turns her hand towards Madeline’s side, and Madeline stops her movement to keep strands of Renata’s hair from blocking her features. Renata looks at her, lids heavy, tired and completely relaxed with a lazy smile. All of the severe lines on her face have disappeared, talk about the wonders of sex.

“Your hands are pretty magical, I’d admit. Fuck, don’t know if I can walk afterward.”

“Don’t exaggerate.”

Madeline smiles widely, though she’s having the same thought. She’s expecting Renata to be dominant and feisty in bed, but she’s underestimated the possibility that they are of equal want and lust.

“Jane said you’re a top.”

“I am.”

Madeline pretends to be infuriated at the matter-of-fact statement Renata’s calmly delivered.

“You’re not!” Renata raises her brow, and flips until she’s lying on her back again. She stares at the ceiling, the usual sharpness of her eyes replaced with a groggy glint; not a single trace of anger and irritation can be found on her face. Madeline’s sneaky hand finds its new target, and she idly drags her fingers down Renata’s abdomen that has contracted countless of times in the past hour. “Though I must admit, _fuck_.” Madeline exclaims and giggles, maneuvering until she can tuck her chin safe in the nook of Renata’s neck, with her hands still tracing the soft, alabaster skin. “Those were probably the best I’ve ever had.”

“Don’t jump to that so fast.” Renata drawls with a half-grin. “There are still so many things I haven’t done to you.”

Madeline stops dead, and swallows.

“What are those?”

Renata closes her eyes, and whispers the most sinful ideas for Madeline to gasp about. Then after Renata opens her eyes and mounts Madeline (her movements unhurried and teasing), there goes another thirty minutes of implementing one (or two) of her sexual fantasies, starring a shorter blonde, who remains defiant and unwilling to submit until the last minute.

***

“You _what_?”

She asks just to convey her disbelief and fascination, then bursts out giggling. Madeline hasn’t seen Celeste flush this hard in such a long time.

“C’mon. It’s not a surprise she’s like that in bed.”

“Maddie! A game needs players to play!” Madeline stares at the strawberry-blond, not wanting to admit nor recognize the innuendo. “I’m not surprised about you, though.”

“Hey!”

This time, it’s Madeline’s turn to blush as she smacks her best friend’s forearm.

They’re about to leave their usual café spot. The December sun shines and cloaks them with its lazy warmth, effectively raising a few degrees in the typical Monterey-winter.

Jane is absent today because she’s going for yoga at Bonnie’s, and Renata…well, Madeline can still feel her on her lips when she brings her the usual coffee (as well as her lap and waist; they’re not so subtle at this stage of their relationship).

“It's pretty fair! The texts—”

Madeline groans.

“I _know_ you’re going to bring that up. It’s sexting! We exaggerate things! Besides, how come you all start to make fun of me instead of Renata, who’s responsible for sending those godforsaken things into our group chat? Fuck, I don’t know why I haven’t died cringing.”

Celeste shrugs and giggles.

“You excited about tonight?”

She wriggles her brows at Madeline. She clears her throat accordingly and avoids Celeste’s knowing stare.

“Maybe.”

That elicits another fit of laughter.

Today marks their one-hundredth-day anniversary, and when Renata proposes for them to have a private dinner at her place, she was beyond surprised. She didn’t expect Renata to have this kind of romantic sentiment, not to add that Renata has been busier than ever, with her business expanding in the course of collaborations and successful investments on start-ups. Madeline takes that fact to heart and tells herself, that Abigail does have a future outside of school.

Nothing has changed, yet everything is different.

Renata always saves time for Madeline, just like before and vice versa. Madeline’s career hasn’t improved much, only that she’s proved herself stable and easy-going enough for a chance at a promotion, which can happen in the not so distant future. She’s not so keen though, now that she finds joy in being in love, spending more time with her friends, and families. She even considers calling her parents after decades of zero-interactions. Madeline is not sure if she’ll ever be ready for that, nor has she set a high expectation (any expectations, actually) for the talk. She will do it anyway, because that’s what family does. That’s what love does.

The divorce arrangement left a void in Madeline’s heart, but she has more to fill in that vacancy. Now with some new perspectives of life, more often than not, Madeline writes about all of the things that have taken place after Trivia Night (she still will not admit it’s a _diary_ though). She finds solace and healing in the progress.

She has her friends and her lover to thank and to love. She’s been stripped to nothing, being left with only love.

“Maddie?” Celeste’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts. Madeline thinks her friend is too beautiful to be in this instant…or is this instant too beautiful for them? “See you tomorrow. And remember to tell me all about tonight.”

Madeline chuckles lightly, expression thoughtful but soft.

“Bye, hon.”

After they share an embrace in the parking area and go to their separate cars, Madeline sits alone in the car and stares ahead. She watches the passersby come and go, permitting herself to stay in a moment of tranquility, knowing too well it will fleet—so will everything else. Nothing is permanent so nothing is important, that’s what makes everything important. Real love comes after the total clarity of things, after the loss of faith, direction, and self; real love comes after destruction and rebuilding, and it will be real because Madeline no longer rebuilds her life with false hope.

Being who she is, if this is the love she’s capable to give, and the love she’ll ever get, she’s ready to relish in the pain and happiness.

_~Fin~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy to have finished this piece of work! Thank you for reading this, and let's all pray there will be a season 3 of BLL in the future. I miss the Monterey 5 already.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas y'all!


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